All I Really Need to Know, I Learned in Kindergarten
by BroadwayBaggins
Summary: Nonmagical AU. When traffic makes Robin late picking up Roland from kindergarten, he meets an unexpected new friend-and inadvertently begins to play matchmaker.
1. Late

**Author's Note: Nonmagical Outlaw Queen AU with a generous helping of Henry and Roland being adorable. Slightly inspired by the music video for the song "Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. Thanks so much to Lala-Kate for looking everything over and offering her feedback!**

* * *

Robin is never late.

It is something he takes immense pride in, even though John and Will gave him hell for it every time. Now, though, it seems like the universe has come to personally punish him for bragging about his punctuality in the past. Today has been a day that defines Murphy's Law like no other, starting with two bad meetings with suppliers (both of which ended poorly _and_ ran over time), followed by cancelled appointments, a mix-up at his favorite lunch restaurant, a flat tire, and now, traffic at a standstill as the clock on the dashboard clicks over to 3:20 on the dot—ten minutes from the time he is supposed to pick Roland up from kindergarten, and he is at least twenty minutes away from his destination. And that's if God is on his side and he doesn't hit a single red light between here and Roland's school.

Somehow, he thinks that's unlikely.

"Oh, come on!" he cries out. He considers leaning on the horn, going out to check what the hell is holding up all the damn traffic, walking the rest of the way to Roland's school because he might actually get there sooner at this rate, but suddenly he sees the taillights on the car ahead of him blink on, and he shifts his own car into drive for the first time in what has to be fifteen minutes. "Finally," he mutters, stepping on the gas, finally passing the intersection. He sees the culprit right away, a precarious telephone wire, no doubt shifted by the heavy winds last night, and wonders why he didn't hear anything on the radio about the traffic jam.

He's going at a pretty good clip, one eye on the clock and one on the road, when the brake lights on the car in front him go on once again, and he steps on his own brakes with a jerk. "Are you kidding me?" His eyes scan the road, wondering what the hell has gone wrong _this_ time.

"Damn it," he says as he hears that all-familiar clang of the bell, and looks up to see the gates at the railroad crossing lowering to block the traffic. A train—a long one, full of coal and other cargo, from the looks of it—is exactly what he _doesn't_ need right now.

Swearing once again under his breath, feeling strangely thankful for once that his son _isn't_ here to hear him use such language, Robin digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone. "Come on, come on…" His fingers drum out an anxious pattern on the steering wheel before he finally hears a familiar, accented voice pick up.

"Belle? It's Robin. So sorry. I'm running a little late. I need you to do me a favor…"

* * *

"Where's my daddy?"

Roland's voice is full of excitement, and he can hardly wait to tell his daddy everything he did at school that day. He looks around the classroom hopefully, as if his daddy will magically appear, but there is no sign of him. All of his friends have already been picked up by their mommies and daddies already, and it is only him and Miss French left. Her phone sits on her desk where she left it a minute ago, and now as she looks down at him she has a funny look on her face. Roland tries again. "Where is he?"

"He's not here yet, Roland. He's running late today."

"But he's _always_ here." A little crease appears between Roland's eyebrows, his lips pursed together as he tries to process this new information. "When's he coming?"

"He's going to get here as soon as he can, okay? In the meantime, you're going to hang out with me and the rest of the kids. Remember when I told you about the after-school program here, the one I run so someone can look after all the kids whose parents have to work late?"

Slowly, Roland nods.

"Well, today, you get to join our group! I don't think there's anyone from our class here today, but there's a few you might know from the park, and there's some of my morning kindergarteners, and—"

Roland's lip trembles. "But I want Daddy."

"I know, Roland, and he's coming to get you as soon as he can. But for now—"

"Hey, Miss French."

Roland looks up at the sound of the newcomer, and he and Miss French turn to see a dark-haired, somewhat lanky boy stride in. A book is tucked securely under his arm, but his other one is free as he offers himself to Miss French for a hug.

"You, Henry Mills," Belle says with a smile, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tight, "need to stop growing. You're going to be a foot taller than me at this rate."

He gives her a grin as she ruffles his hair. "What, like that's hard?"

Throughout this exchange, Roland stares up at Henry with interest, although his eyes still threaten tears. Henry looks down at him and smiles. "Who's this?"

"Henry, this is one of my students, Roland. He's going to be hanging out with us today." Belle kneels so that she can look into Roland's eyes and puts a hand on his shoulder, pointing up at Henry. "Roland, this is Henry. He was in the very first class I ever taught, a long time ago."

"Like a million billion years?" Roland asks, naming the biggest number he knows.

Henry laughs, shaking his head. "I'm not quite _that_ old. And neither is Miss French, for the record. But she's still my favorite teacher, even after all this time."

Roland brightens a bit at this. "Me too. But she's my _only_ teacher."

"This is Roland's first time staying over after school. I think he's a little nervous."

"Oh, don't be nervous, it's fun!" Henry says quickly. "I stay after almost every day. My mom has a really, really important job, so she has a lot of meetings to go to and usually can't pick me up right away. But it's fun to stay after. Sometimes it's even more fun than regular school."

"Really?" Roland asks, his tone suspicious.

"I promise. Sometimes, if I stay late enough, she even takes me out to dinner after she picks me up."

Now that didn't sound too bad to Roland. A faint smile crossed his face, and he saw Miss French smile too. "How about Henry takes you over to the snack table and you can talk? I think Morgan's dad brought us ants on a log today."

Roland still looks unsure, and Belle is about to continue when a shriek is heard on the other side of the room. "Miss French!" a little girl wails, crumpled on the floor clutching her skinned knee, and Belle rushes over to administer Band-Aids and kisses. Henry is left alone with Roland, and the two of them study each other intently for a moment.

"So, how about those ants on a log?" Henry asks.

* * *

When they are both seated at a table—Henry's legs are so long that he looks almost as silly as daddy as he tries to fit into a child-sized chair—and munching on celery and peanut butter, Roland looks up at Henry thoughtfully. "What does your mommy do that's so important?" he asks. Mothers are a mystery to him—he barely remembers his own, and he treats others with the same sort of reverence that other kids use for Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.

"She's the school superintendant."

"What's a super-intemdant?"

Henry thinks a moment, crunching down on his celery stick. "She kind of runs the whole school district, I guess. She's in charge, and if people want to change things they usually have to ask her first."

"Like a queen?"

Henry smiles at that. "Yeah, I guess so. Kind of like a queen."

"And what about your daddy?"

"I don't have one. It's just me and my mom."

"Oh!" Roland says, his eyes widening, the bite of celery he had been about to take frozen in midair. "That's sad! I don't know what I'd do without my daddy."

"You love him a lot, huh?" Roland nods vigorously, his celery stick still halfway to his mouth. "Well, tht's what it's like with me and my mom. It's like she's both parents at once, kind of. We have each other and that's what matters, you know?"

"Yeah!" Roland says brightly. "It's just me and my daddy too. My mommy died when I was little."

A funny look comes over Henry's face at that, and the only sound is the crunching of their celery for a while. It's almost like the older boy doesn't know quite what to say. Roland looks over his shoulder for Miss French, but she's across the room again, giving paper and crayons to some second graders. A few other kids are reading quietly to themselves. Roland looks back at Henry, his gaze falling on his book. "What's that?"

"What? Oh. It's a book of fairy tales my mom gave me. She said I was going through all of my other books too quickly, and that these might slow me down. They're written kind of old-fashioned, but they're really good. The pictures are really cool too."

"There's pictures?"

"Yeah. Do you want to see?"

Roland nods eagerly, scooting over to see as Henry opens the book. His mouth falls open at the sight of the illustrations, huge and colorful and so real that when he stretches out a hand to touch them he half-expects to feel the softness of Rapunzel's hair instead of thick, creamy paper. "Wow!" he whispers, looking up at Henry in amazement. "It's so pretty!"

"Want me to read you one?"

Roland's excitement all but steals his breath away, and he can only nod.

"Okay. Let's start from the beginning, okay?" Henry flips through the gold-edged pages, giving Roland glimpses of what is to come. "Okay. Once upon a time…"

* * *

When Robin finally runs in, out of breath, at 4:15, he finds Roland and Henry sitting on the overstuffed couch in Miss French's room, bent over a thick book as Henry reads out loud. "I'm here!" he calls out. "I am so sorry, Belle. I was stuck behind a twenty minute train. Twenty minutes! And then there's all that construction on Riley and—"

"It's okay, Robin," Belle says immediately as Roland hops down from the couch, rushing over to his father. "I think Roland had fun today, didn't you, Roland?"

"Daddy!" Roland's only response is slightly muffled as he throws his arms around his father's waist. "You're here!"

"I am so sorry I wasn't on time, Roland. It will never happen again, I promise." Robin kneels down with his son still in his arms, moving to hold him at arm's length with his hands on his shoulders. "I promise."

"It's okay. It was fun! There were snacks and Henry read to me from his book."

"And who might this Henry be?"

Henry himself clears his throat, giving Robin a little wave. "Right here. We just read some fairy tales together. He really seems to like Snow White."

"Well, thank you for looking out for him today. I really appreciate it."

"Any time. He's a great kid."

Robin beams proudly and opens his mouth to thank the boy, but his words are cut off by the approaching sound of high heels. "Henry, let's go. If we hurry, we can make the next showing of the movie you've been going on about all week."

Robin and Roland turn to the sound of the voice, taking in the sight of a dark-haired woman with a deep purple dress and heels to match. Her demeanor might seem intimidating to some, but her smile is bright, which puts both of the Hood men at ease. Henry looks amused. "Mom, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't going to be here until five."

"My meeting ended a little early, so I thought I'd surprise you. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, hang on a second." Henry puts his hands on his knees and crouches to look at Roland. "It was really fun hanging out with you today, Roland. I hope we can do it again soon."

"Me too!" Roland crows happily. He beams up at Regina. "Henry says you're like the queen of the whole school."

Regina smiles, locking eyes with the small boy "Well, I'm not sure I'm exactly like a queen. But it's nice of you to say it. I do think it would be fun to be a queen." Her gaze settles on Robin, and she smiles."I don't believe we've met. Regina Mills." She holds out a hand for him to shake. "You must be a new parent. I get to know everyone pretty quickly. Henry's in 8th grade, and it's hard to believe that this is going to be his last year here."

"Robin," he responds, shaking her hand. Hers is warm and soft, and her grip his firm, and there's something in her eyes that makes his heart speed up a bit. "And this is Roland. I think he and your son have already met. And I know who you are. You run a lovely school here, Miss Mills."

"Regina," she corrects softly. "And thank you. I'm happy to hear that, and we're very glad to have you here."

"Daddy, can Regina and Henry come over for dinner?" Roland blurts out. The adults look down at him, their eyes wide. Henry bites his lip to hold back a chuckle.

"Roland…" Robin stammers, looking back over at Regina. "You can't just…invite someone over for dinner like that." His mind is already going a mile a minute, wondering what he has in the kitchen that he could possibly make, if it would seem lazy to just order a few pizzas and maybe make a nice salad, if Regina and her son are vegetarians…when was the last time he vacuumed the living room? Has he been living in squalor with his son and hasn't even noticed? And will Miss Mills judge him for it, judge their tiny home when she no doubt lives in the sort of house that Roland would insist is a castle? Not that he thinks that Regina Mills seems the type to judge a person for something as inconsequential as that, but…

"Besides, it's rude not to think of Henry's father—"

"Henry doesn't have one!" Roland chimes helpfully. "They're like us, Daddy. The Two Musketeers."

Robin's face softens, and he glances at Regina with understanding in his eyes. "I see."

"So can they come?" Roland presses, tugging at his father's hand. "Please, daddy?"

"That's very nice of you…" Regina begins. "But I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Come on, Mom," Henry cuts in. "Might be fun, don't you think?"

"Henry…"

"We could even bring your famous apple pie."

"Well, that does sound tempting," Robin said, attempting to make a joke. He studied her for a moment, her dark eyes and full lips, which were now smirking at him slightly. She was beautiful, but it was more than that that intrigued him. It was the instant camaraderie of meeting another single parent—Robin knew there were more within the school, but he had yet to meet any of them—her obvious love for her son, her gentle compassion that he can see exists even beneath her professional exterior. He likes Regina Mills, he decides in an instant—at least, she is someone he'd like to get to know.

"Please, please, please daddy?"

"I…I guess it's all right, Roland. If—if you'd like to," he adds quickly, his blue eyes flashing up to meet Regina's once again. "You're more than welcome. We'd be happy to have you over."

She still looks unsure. "I wouldn't want to impose…"

"You wouldn't be imposing, I promise."

"Then we'd be more than happy to come."

"YAY!" Roland cries happily, grabbing for Regina's hand. "Let's go!"

"Henry and I already have plans tonight, Roland," Regina says gently before Roland can start bouncing with excitement "How about another time, though? Would that be okay?"

Roland thinks a moment before nodding exuberantly. "Okay!"

Robin takes a deep breath. He hasn't gone on more than a handful of dates since losing Marian…but, he supposes, if the boys are there, it doesn't really count as a date. "How about…Friday night?"

Regina's eyes widen just a fraction, and she ignores when her breathing speeds up against her will. "Friday sounds great."

"Sounds like a plan then." Robin looks at Regina with a bit of a shy smile, wrapping his arm around his son absently. "So…I guess I'll see you soon."

Regina's arm comes around Henry's shoulder, and she turns to shepherd him out the door. "Looking forward to it."


	2. Play Ball!

"Come on, Daddy!" Roland calls out, running ahead of Robin, a flash of forest green Tshirt and gray baseball pants. "We're gonna be late!"

"We are _not_ going to be late, Roland," Robin protests, shaking his head. Ever since he had been late picking up Roland from kindergarten two days before, Roland has developed a new obsession with punctuality, particularly from his father. It's about as endearing as it is infuriating. "You know they can't start without us. Slow down, please!"

Roland stops, studying a dandelion with interest as he waits for his father. "Cuz you're the coach," he says brightly once Robin can catch up.

Robin chuckles and readjusts his grip on the heavy equipment bag he has slung over his shoulder. "Exactly. If I didn't show up, they'd have to find someone else to lug all this around like a pack mule."

"Where's Uncle Will?" Roland inquires, looking around. Will is not his uncle by blood, but he's been Robin's best friend since they were back in school and has basically helped him raise Roland since Marian's death—although how helpful he has been is certainly up for debate. Will is also his assistant coach, where he has proven himself to be an enthusiastic partner, but maybe a little less than reliable.

"Late, as usual," Robin mutters before realizing what he's just said.

"We're gonna be _late?"_ Roland shrieks.

"No, Roland, we are not going to be late. The game doesn't start for another half-hour, okay? We are _not_ going to be late." He looks across the park towards the slightly run-down baseball field, looking for something—anything—that can occupy his son while he sets up the tee. "Look, I see some of your friends right over there. Why don't you go play with them for a bit while I set up?"

"Okay!" Roland cries happily, and then he is gone, running as fast as his little legs will carry him towards the playground. Robin watches him for a second, a smile on his face, feeling so much pride and love for his son that his heart aches just a little. Not for the first time—not even for the first time today—he wishes that Marian was there to see the boy their baby has grown into.

The mid-May evening is warm and calm, the perfect weather for tee-ball, he reflects as he finally resumes his walk over to the field. He tosses the equipment bag down and reaches inside of it, working on getting the tee set up. He is nearly finished when a shadow suddenly blocks the sun, and he finds himself looking up into a familiar face.

"Take me out to the Tee-ball game, take me out to the crowd…" Will sings cheekily. He is dressed in jeans and the same forest green uniform Tshirt as Robin and Roland, although he has once again failed to tuck it in as Robin has requested multiple times. Robin rolls his eyes.

"Nice of you to show up, Scarlet."

"I was unavoidably detained."

"A likely story. Make yourself useful, get the bats and helmets out of the bag."

"We would have also accepted _hello, Will, my oldest and dearest friend, how are you,_ but if that's how you prefer to greet me, I can't stop you." Will chuckles as he digs through the bag, pulling out shiny metal bats and dropping them with a loud, metallic _clink_ one by one onto the ground. "Where's the little man?"

Robin squints out over to the playground. "Currently on the slide with his friend Katie. He was petrified that we were going to be late to our own game."

"Can't start without you, mate."

"That's what I told him. No good." Robin sits back onto his heels and sighs. "So what held you up?"

Will makes a face. "Nothing. I forgot we had a game tonight."

Robin rolls his eyes. "I could staple the bloody schedule to your forehead and you still wouldn't remember when our games are."

"Your confidence in me is staggering, truly. But enough about me. Let's talk about you."

"Me?" Robin asks, confused. He gets to his feet, brushing dirt from the knees of his pants. "What's there to talk about?" He walks over to the cooler that Will has thankfully remembered to bring and pulls out an orange Gatorade, twisting off the cap and bringing it to his lips.

"Word on the street is you have a date for Friday night."

Robin chokes and splutters, sending drops of bright orange Gatorade falling to the ground at his feet. "What?" he asks, bewildered. "Who told you that?"

"A little birdie," Will says innocently. "You should really teach that boy of yours to keep a secret. And Belle might have mentioned the way the two of you were hitting it off, too."

Robin almost smiled at the mention of Belle, but he had more important things to worry about than Will's ongoing "will they-won't they" with Roland's kindergarten teacher. "It isn't a date," he said firmly. "Roland made a friend in Belle's after-school program, an 8th grader named Henry. Roland wanted me to invite Henry and his mother over for dinner on Friday. It's not a date."

"Sure, Robin. Whatever you say."

"Our children will be there, so it is _not_ a date. For God's sake, Will, it's dinner. We're going to order some pizza or maybe do burgers on the grill. Watermelon, potato salad. Cupcakes. Just dinner between friends."

"_Friends."_

"Yes. Friends. I hardly know the woman, Will. I'm just trying to be nice."

"But you'd like to know her."

"Well, of course I would!" Robin protested. "Roland's only been at this school for one semester, and the year's almost up. It's been hard, you know, being a new parent at school _and_ a single dad. Some of the other parents don't quite seem to know what to make of me yet. "

Will snorted. "Please. They love you. You're coaching the best team in the league, aren't you? They wouldn't keep you around if they didn't like you."

"Well, they _like_ me, but I wouldn't say I've made any real friends among the parents yet. And Regina…she seems like she could be a friend. At any rate, it would be nice to have someone who understands what it's like to be a single parent."

Will looked contrite. "Look, mate, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he said softly. "I think it's a good thing. Marian's been gone almost four years now. It's good that you're starting to move on. This could be good for you—even if she does end up being just a friend. You know me, I just had to give you a hard time about it. I'm sorry if I struck a nerve." He paused, watching Robin for his reaction. "But this Regina…you like her, yeah?"

"Of course I like her," Robin said immediately. "I mean…" he quickly tried to backpedal at the satisfied look on Will's face. "She seems like a lovely woman. I only really talked to her for a few minutes, but she seems great—wonderful mother, confident, kind…a little intimidating, if I'm being honest."

"Well, yeah. She's the superintendant, right? She's probably a real ball-buster."

"Watch your mouth, Scarlet. We have a kids' Tee-ball game to coach in fifteen minutes."

"_Mea culpa. _And she's good-looking?"

"Beautiful," Robin says without missing a beat. "Absolutely…" A flash of green at the corner of his eye catches his attention, and he turns to look.

"Actually," he says, sounding slightly dazed, "you can see for yourself. Roland's bringing her over right now."

* * *

"Daddy, look who I found!" Roland cries out. He had taken hold of Regina's hand and is busy pulling her along towards him. Robin would be mortified if not for the smile on Regina's face. "It's Regina!"

"I see that, Roland," Robin says as they approach. She is dressed in Sperrys shoes, a purple shirt, and cuffed jean capris, so much more casual than the last time he saw her that he almost doesn't recognized her."Where did you find her?"

"One of our neighbors was having a birthday party at the pavilion. It just finished." Regina takes in the sight of Robin and Roland in their matching shirts, and Will behind them. "Roland mentioned he had a game tonight. He didn't say that you were the coach."

"It must have slipped his mind," Robin said sheepishly. "Yeah, I am. And this is my assistant coach, Will Scarlet. He's an old friend of ours, isn't that right, Roland?"

"Yeah!" Roland yells as Will leans over and shakes Regina's hand. He catches Robin's eye as he pulls away, giving him a nod as if to give her his stamp of approval, but Robin ignores him entirely.

"Sherwood Forest," Regina says, reading the logo that is embossed on the front of their shirts. "That outdoorsy store downtown? Are they your sponsors?"

"Yeah. Each team is sponsored by a different local business. I just happen to have an in with the manager of Sherwood."

"Do you?" Regina asks, sounding genuinely interested.

Robin smiles. "I own the store."

"Oh!" Regina says. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize." More families have begun arriving now for the game, setting up chairs and handing out snacks to their children. A few parents greet him and Will as they go to set up camp, and younger and older siblings rush toward the playground for a few moments of fun before they have to come back and cheer on the game. Henry has joined them by this time, waiting patiently for his mom to go. "Henry and I just…we wanted to know if we were still on for Friday night."

"Absolutely," Robin says immediately. "It's supposed to be a nice night, so I was thinking we might grill out."

"That sounds excellent."

"Are there any restrictions I need to worry about? Allergies or anything like that?"

"Nope, not at all. We'll bring dessert, just like we talked about."

"Yeah, I'm sure you will," Will mutters, not loud enough for Regina to hear, although Robin has to stifle the urge to kick him in his smug shin.

"Sounds like a plan, then," he says, and they smile at each other. It is Henry who breaks the silence.

"Mom, it looks like the game is about to start," he tells her quietly. "Do you want to go home, or should we stick around and watch for a bit?"

Regina looks a bit surprised by the question. "Oh, I don't know, Henry…is your homework all done?"

"Yeah, I told you that before we left. And exams don't start for two more weeks. I'm fine."

Regina still looks unsure. "Maybe we could just stay for half."

"You're more than welcome," Robin says quickly. "Who knows? You might end up being a good luck charm for us."

It takes a bit more coaxing, but finally Regina and Henry take their seats on the bleachers to watch the game. They are playing against the Dockside Ice Cream Shoppe team today, forest green versus sky blue. Robin nods at Will, who steps up to the plate for no doubt his favorite part of the game.

"Play ball!"" he cries.

* * *

They're not supposed to keep score—the purpose of this league is to teach kids the skills they'll need for baseball and other sports in the future. It's supposed to be fun, but that doesn't stop Will from covertly keeping score anyway. He whispers it into Robin's ear at the top of every inning, despite his best efforts to ignore him. Despite being a British man through and through, Will and Robin take their baseball seriously, although Robin at least knows when to draw the line when it comes to a kindergarten tee-ball league. In spite of himself, he keeps glancing over to the bleachers where he knows Regina is sitting, watching her watch the game. Although she does take out her phone to answer several texts during the course of the game, and at one point steps away to take a call that Robin assumes must be for work, she seems engaged and excited to be there. She claps and cheers along with the rest of them, particularly when Roland steps up to bat or throws the ball. She laughs with Henry, her smile bright even from his vantage point on the third base line—and more than once, he catches her smiling at him.

They end up staying for the whole game, much to Robin's surprise. When the game is over (6-4 Sherwood, according to Will's mental scoreboard) and the traditional "good games" have been exchanged before the kids run to retrieve their Gatorade and snacks, Robin finds himself crossing to Regina and Henry, who appear to be waiting for him. Will and Roland follow, each of them happily sucking on juiceboxes. Regina laughs at the sight.

"Ignore him. He's a child," Robin said breezily. "How'd you enjoy the game?"

"It was fun!" Regina said brightly. "I don't remember it being as exciting when Henry played."

"That's because I spent most of my time in the outfield picking flowers, mom," Henry said with a roll of his eyes. "When I was Roland's age, anyway. I got my head into the game more when I was older."

"So tell me," Regina says, reaching down to straighten the brim of Roland's hat as if it is second-nature to her, which Robin supposes that it is. "How is it that two British guys came to be coaching America's national pastime?"

Robin laughs. "It was because of my wife, actually," he explains. Will looks at him in surprise. Usually when Robin mentions Marian, he does not do so this cheerfully. "She was American. We met while she was studying abroad. Her father used to coach the Sandpipers," he explains, naming the local minor league team. "When we moved over here, he got Will and I into the game. I defected more than Will, though. Baseball might be his first love, but he's still obsessed with rugby."

"I'm not a traitor like you," Will says confidently. "Although I'll never say no to those season tickets."

"Woah, hold up," Henry says suddenly. "You have season tickets to the Sandpipers?"

"Yeah!" Roland pipes up. "Grandpa got them for us! But he's tired now."

"Retired," Robin clarifies. "We try to make it to as many games as we can in the summer time. Maybe the two of you could even come with us some time?"

"Awesome!" Henry says enthusiastically, and Regina smiles.

"That sounds great," she says before leaning down to look at Roland. "And before I forget, you played wonderfully today."

"Thanks!" Roland says with a mouth full of post-game cupcake. There is orange frosting on his nose, and Regina reaches out to him, preparing to wipe it away, when her phone rings. She pulls it out and checks the caller ID before she answers it, turning away. "Hey. Can I call you back in just a minute? Thanks, David."

"Work?" Robin asks when she hangs up.

She sighs and smiles. "Never ends. We should probably get going anyway. Ready to go, Henry?"

They say goodbye, shaking hands and, in Roland's case, receiving hugs. As Robin watches them go, he calls out to them, "See you Friday?"

"Friday," Regina echoes.

Robin smiles, his hand on his son's shoulder as he watches them walk away. Roland soon dashes off to play with some friends, and only Will is left. "But you're still just friends, right, Robin?"

This time, Robin doesn't stop himself from punching him in the arm.


	3. Fit for a Queen

_Author's Note: This snippet, which is nothing but Dimples Queen interaction, requires just a little bit of backstory: I am studying theatre in college (about to graduate this Sunday!) and as part of our curriculum, we took a class entitled "Educational Outreach Theatre" in which we rehearsed and produced a children's show and then took it on tour to local elementary schools. Since it was that experience that, in part, inspired this story, I couldn't resist putting it in here. Hope you enjoy! The feedback I've gotten on this little story has been unbelievable, and know that I appreciate each comment!_

* * *

The night after the Tee-ball game, Roland is called out of class.

Well, not just him. His entire class–along with students from the first, second, and third grade–gets to miss their music and gym periods for a special treat: a play put on by students at the local college. They gather in the gym and sit criss-cross applesauce on the floor, ogling the basketball court that has been transformed into a traveling stage. A huge structure and brightly colored boxes have been brought in, dominated by a huge, colorful chest (he overhears the college kids calling it their prop box), and bright costumes hang from every available surface. To Roland the college kids seem impossibly big, but their smiles are bright and their voices enthusiastic when they come and crouch before them to talk to them before the show. They introduce themselves–redheaded Margaret, who reminds Roland of Merida from _Brave_, tall, lanky Stefan, Mallory with dark hair like Regina's and one of the loudest laughs Roland has ever heard, and others with names like Claire and Emily and Allison and Zach that he doesn't get to talk to. They ask the kindergarteners questions, like if any of them has ever seen a play before, and Roland regales them with tales of going to see a pantomime show of _Robin Hood_ when he was in England visiting his grandparents last year. He tries to explain why it's so funny, because of his daddy's name, but before he can Miss Belle is standing at the front of the gym and telling everyone to be quiet and respectful to their guests, because the show is about to begin.

The play is amazing. Roland is riveted by the six tales from around the world, starting with the Magic Tree from Africa and moving on to folktales from Denmark and Mexico that leave him and his classmates roaring with laughter. He shouts out answers when the characters need help, as he was instructed to do, and almost gets called up onto the stage to join the show (but they chose Sydney instead). They lean in close to the players, eyes wide, attention rapt.

It's during the story of some rambunctious monkeys from Italy and a peddler selling caps that he sees her.

Roland's eyes swivel to follow the monkeys with their stolen caps, tempted to shout and wake the peddler, and then he sees her sitting on a folded chair between Miss Belle and Miss Blanchard, their music teacher. Regina is wearing red today, a pretty dress and high shoes, and she seems almost as absorbed with the play as he is. Roland's face lights up, and he opens his mouth either to gasp or to call out her name when she sees him, too. Her face brightens in a smile, but she holds her fingers to her lips to remind him to be quiet during the performance. With her other hand, she wiggles her fingers at him in a wave. Roland nods and waves back, promising to be quiet and turning his attention back to the stage just as the peddler wakes up from his ill-advised nap.

Two more stories later, the show is done and Roland claps and cheers as the cast takes their bows. They process out in the opposite order that they came in, so the kindergarteners sit and wait while the older kids file out by class. The college kids come and ask them how they like the show, and a few of Roland's classmates excitedly proclaim that they want to be actors one day, too. That seems to make the college kids really happy, and Roland grins at them as he watches Regina start talking to the man who seems to be in charge of the actors–their teacher, maybe. He is round and bearded, although not like Roland's daddy's beard, and whatever he says makes Regina smile so Roland decides that he likes him.

Soon, only the kindergarten classes are left. Roland watches Mr. Hopper's class leave, walking out single file, and Miss Belle smiles at her class as they get to their feet. The college students are milling around, looking at their phones or sipping from plastic bottles of water, waiting for all the kids to leave before they start packing up. When Roland sees that Miss Belle is distracted tying Joseph's shoes–they always come undone, and he can never get his knots just right–he abandons his friends, walking over to where Regina is still talking to the other teacher. She doesn't notice him at first, but the bearded man does, smiling down at him. "It looks like we have company."

Regina looks down, smiling immediately when she sees him standing there. "Hello, Roland! Did you enjoy the performance?"

"Yeah!" Roland cries.

"What was your favorite part?"

Roland's brow furrows as he thinks, going over the performance in his head. "I liked the monkeys, and Anansi," he begins. "And the Oowongalayma story, and the one at the end about the mice!"

"I liked the Mouse Marriage story too," Regina agrees. "In fact, I was just telling Dr. Orchard here how much the entire school seemed to enjoy the show."

The man looks at his watch, then glances back at his students. "I should bring the van around so we can start to pack up." He holds out his hand, and Regina shakes it. "Thanks so much for having us."

"Thank you for sharing your students' talents with us. You'll be at another school in our district next week, right? At Quincy?"

"We sure will. Thanks again, Miss Mills."

He disappears out the side entrance of the gym, leaving Roland alone with Regina. He grins up at her, about to speak, but she beats him to it. "I'm excited to come over to your house tomorrow, Roland. Are you?"

"Yeah!" he says immediately, probably louder than he should have. Regina laughs. "Daddy's gonna make burgers and hot dogs, and I made him get watermelon cuz its my favorite. I think he's getting pasta salad too, but I don't like that much." He wrinkles his nose. "But we're having potato chips!"

Regina laughs again. "That all sounds so good!"

"And I can show you and Henry my toys!"

"You sure can! You know, it's really nice of you and your daddy to have us over."

"Well, we like you!" Roland says, as if that should have been obvious. "We like you a whole lot."

"Well, that's good, because I like you and your daddy too…very much."

"Roland?" The sound of Miss Belle's voice surprises them both, and Roland looks up to see her smiling kindly at him. "It's time to go." The rest of his class is already lined up at the doors of the gym, waiting patiently for him. Roland takes the hand she offers him, turning around to wave to Regina. "Bye, Regina! See you tomorrow!"

"Goodbye, Roland!"

He can hardly wait.


	4. Spring Cleaning

_Author's Note: Because of language used in this chapter, I'm bumping the rating of the story as a whole up to T. Hope nobody minds! Thanks so much to Lala-Kate for helping me out with this chapter._

* * *

Robin's son has many abundant charms. Robin is continually blown away by Roland's bright mind—inherited from his mother, he has no doubt—his compassion for others, his willingness to try new things and his ability to brighten the day of everyone he meets. Unfortunately, cleaning is not high on Roland's list of talents—nor, it seems, on his list of priorities.

Robin had mistakenly assumed that cleaning the house would be easy—he had told Will to take over at the store after he picked Roland up from school, and figured he would spend the time between 3:30 and 7:00, when Regina and Henry were due to arrive, cleaning and prepping the food. He had already raided the grocery store earlier that morning after dropping Roland off, and the fridge and pantry were loaded with everything they needed for an early summer barbecue: hamburgers, hot dogs, various buns, pasta salad _and_ potato salad (he had spent five minutes trying to choose before throwing caution to the wind and tossing both into the cart), the watermelon Roland had specifically requested, various toppings and condiments, four different kinds of potato chips, lemonade, and some beer and a bottle of wine he threw in just in case Regina wanted something stronger and he didn't already have anything that home already that might tempt her. He had been fully aware that he might be overdoing it a bit, but he couldn't shake the realization that he wanted this night to be perfect, for Regina as well as himself. Will was right about one thing—Robin _did _like Regina, probably more than he wanted to admit right then (especially standing in aisle ten of a very crowded grocery store), and he realizes that this is a turning point, an important stepping stone in trying to move on. Regina isn't just the first woman Robin has been even remotely interested in since losing his wife (his friendship with Belle had started a year earlier after a disastrous blind date that had left them both firm in the belief that they were better off as good friends), but she is also one of the few people he has made an serious effort to befriend in the past four years. He had simply decided it would be better for him and Roland that they didn't let their lives be disrupted by the addition of too many new people when they were still trying to heal. With few exceptions, Robin has made a fortress for himself and his son, surrounding himself with the friends he already had before he lost Marian and all but closing himself off to anyone new. Surely meeting Regina and Henry was a good thing, regardless of the outcome.

Of course, if his efforts in cleaning are any indication of how the night is going to go, maybe Robin should just quit while he's ahead.

To begin, Roland's enthusiasm and anticipation of the dinner is in no way lessening his capacity for distractions. Already Robin has had to stop him from putting on his swimsuit and running outside to join the neighbors ("But Caleb's daddy turned the sprinklers on!"), told him to turn off the TV five times, and, most recently, stop him from getting out every single toy he owns and displaying them on his bedroom floor so that he can adequately show them off to Henry and Regina. It's not that Roland's trying deliberately to be unhelpful, just that he's at that age where he doesn't seem to see that a clean house is important to impress somebody. It's only with the promise of getting to taste the watermelon early that Robin has been able to convince him to tidy his room, put the aforementioned toys away, and now to help him tackle the living room. Roland now stands happily with an old sock on each hand, now repurposed as a rag, as he dusts the coffee table and entertainment center. It might not look perfect once they're done, but it will be passable at least.

That is, if Robin can get the damned vacuum cleaner to work.

"I don't understand," he tells the machine after ten minutes (or so it seems) of fiddling with it. "You're plugged in. All your attachments are secure. You're empty. So why won't you turn on?"

"Why are you talking to the vacuum, daddy?" Roland asks as he runs his sock-covered hands carefully down the legs of the coffee table.

Robin sighs quietly. "Because maybe if I talk to it enough, it will actually listen to me."

"Vacuums don't talk," Roland says with a giggle, and Robin almost laughs as well, but his glance at the clock stops the sound before it leaves his mouth. Was it really that late already?

"Come on…" Robin shakes the vacuum impatiently once before crawling over to reset the plug again. "I swear to God if you don't…"

There is a roar as the vacuum suddenly comes to life, and Robin breathes a sigh of relief. Now he can finally start getting stuff done…

"Daddy!"

He turns and chokes on the waft of smoke that is coming from both the outlet and the vacuum. "Shit!" he cries out, quickly yanking the plug from the wall before the whole bloody thing can burst into flames. He quickly wafts the smoke away, trying to guide it to the open windows so that the smoke detector doesn't start shrieking. Roland is staring at him, his eyes practically bugged out of his head as his gaze switches between his father and the vacuum.

"That's a bad word, Daddy," he whispers.

Robin swipes a hand down his face, trying to calm his breathing so he doesn't accidentally snap at his son. "Yes, it is, Roland," he agrees. "And I'm afraid you might hear a few more bad words before the night is out. Now, I need you to do me a favor. Stay away from the vacuum until I get this sorted out, all right? I mean it. Don't touch anything."

Roland nods seriously. On the radio, which Robin had turned on earlier to make the act of cleaning more enjoyable, Stevie Wonder is singing about how everything is all right. Robin sighs agitatedly. In his house right now, everything is _not_ all right.

Gingerly, Robin throws the cord to the ground and makes his way to the kitchen, nearly tripping in his haste to find his cell. He passes the watermelon, precariously perched on the kitchen counter, as he rushes by, phone to his ear and dialing Will before he can even catch his breath.

"Will?" he says the moment he hears his friend pick up. "Emergency. I need you to get over to my house right now. Bring a vacuum cleaner."

Robin doesn't turn around as he hears a loud, wet _splat_ on his perfectly mopped kitchen floor. "Uh oh," Roland's voice comes from the living room.

Robin sighs. "And a watermelon."

* * *

"Right," Will says. He and Robin have moved the offending vacuum into the garage, where they can properly examine it. The scorch marks have already been scrubbed from the wall surrounding the plug, and Will's vacuum—old but in working order, _Thank God_, is waiting to be brought inside. The watermelon Will picked up isn't quite as impressive as the other one (which Robin had carefully picked up and mopped away during the agonizing wait for Will to arrive), but at this point Robin will settle for anything, especially because Regina and Henry will be here in less than an hour and he hasn't even begun working on any of the food.

"It's just what I thought," Will says, sitting back on his heels and dusting off his hands.

Robin stares at him, waiting for him to go on. "Well?"

"It's broken."

"I think I puzzled that out for myself, mate," Robin hisses. "You were supposed to figure out what's wrong with it so I can _fix_ it!"

Will stares blankly at him. "There's no fixing it. It's dead. I don't even think a new motor would bring this old thing back to life."

"Damn it!"

"Woah, relax, mate," Will says quickly, standing up. "It's not the end of the world." He gives Robin a strange look, and Robin sighs, burying his head in his hands for a moment.

"I know," he says finally when he comes up for air. "I know. I don't know what's gotten into me."

"Well, I can tell you the answer to that, and her name is Regina Mills."

"Don't start, Will."

"What happened to '_this isn't a date, Will'_?" Will asks, doing such a ridiculous impersonation of Robin's accent that he has to laugh.

"Honestly, I have no idea," he admits, shaking his head. "You probably think I've gone completely mad."

"Oh, I think that about you several times a day," Will says without missing a beat. "And regardless, it's almost good to see you this excited about something again, Robin."

"I just want this to go well, you know?" Robin asks softly, sitting down on the steps that lead into the house. Will kicks the vacuum cord out of the way and sits down beside him. "Not just for me. For Roland too. He adores Henry and Regina already, I can tell. I don't want to let him down."

"You haven't let that boy of yours down in his entire life. I don't see you starting now."

Through the screen door, Robin can hear the radio still going inside. The Dixie Chicks "Wide Open Spaces" is now blasting through the house. One of Marian's favorites from years ago, but Robin furrows his brow in confusion. What radio station _is_ this, anyway?

"You really think so?"

"Positive. And Robin…you're not betraying Marian by being excited to spend time with Regina."

"What?" Robin asks, startled. "How did you—"

"I've known you a long time, Robin. There's not much you can hide from me."

"I'm beginning to see that," Robin agrees. "I just…I don't know if—"

"Look, losing Marian was hard, I understand that. I was there. And you're always going to love her, Robin—and that's okay. That's how it should be, I think. But just because you like this Regina doesn't mean that you love Marian any less."

Robin sighs again, his shoulders slumping. "I know. I know that in my heart. It's just a matter of getting my heart and my head to agree on something. Maybe that's why I'm being so crazy about this being perfect. Because I feel like if it isn't, if I screw this up somehow, then I'm going to feel guilty about blowing this chance to move on."

"You won't blow it, and I'll tell you why. Because you care this much. Just stop worrying and be yourself. It's worked so far, right?"

In spite of it all, Robin smiles. "Maybe. Although one could argue that Roland is the reason she's coming over in the first place, not me."

"Well, can you blame her? Your kid is quite the charmer." Will smiles at him and claps him on the shoulder once before standing up, offering a hand to help Robin off the ground. "But just remember, this is a good thing. Everyone deserves a second chance, and this could be yours. And even if it doesn't work out, you might get a new friend, and that's not so bad, is it?"

"Not so bad at all." Robin stands up and quickly crosses to the faulty vacuum cleaner, pushing it into a dusty corner of the garage to be disposed of later. "Of course, if I don't get the house cleaned soon, I won't be making a good impression on anybody…"

"Way ahead of you," Will says, opening up the car door and reaching for the vacuum he brought. "This should do the—"

"Will!"

The cord from the vacuum has, somehow, wound itself around the watermelon in transit. Will and Robin stare in horror as it pulls the fruit from the car seat and sends it falling towards the floor of the garage, where it explodes into a shower of wet pink fruit.

For a moment, neither of them speaks.

"Shit," Will mutters."

"Scarlet…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Will grumbles, already digging into his pocket for his keys. "I'll go back to the store."

* * *

"Fruit salad," Will announces, striding in the door twenty minutes later, holding a plastic container triumphantly in his hands. In his absence, Robin has vacuumed, retrieved Roland from the neighbors' house, where he snuck over during the vacuum debacle, and is now standing at the kitchen counter making hamburger patties. The clock is inching closer to seven, and Regina and Henry's arrival is imminent, but he finds that he no longer has it in him to worry anymore.

"Yummy yummy," Robin quips, reaching for another handful of hamburger meat.

Will wrinkles his nose. "The Wiggles? Really?"

"Wait til you have a child, then see how much you feel like judging me. What happened to the melon?"

"It's almost Memorial Day weekend. I suspect it's a popular item. They were out, and this has watermelon in it. I figured it was an acceptable substitute."

"You'll have to ask Roland to be the judge on that."

"Where is he, anyway?"

"He had to change his clothes. He got a little wet."

"What?"

As if on cue, Roland runs in, tackling his uncle Will in a hug. His wet clothes have been swapped out for a polo and nice shorts, and Robin is wearing a similar outfit, not knowing how casual this dinner is supposed to be. Roland's curls are still damp, something Will notes as he ruffles Roland's hair. "Roland decided to disobey me and run through the sprinklers with the neighbor kids—which we will be discussing later, I might add," he says, giving Roland a hard look.

"It was only _one_ sprinkler, Daddy," Roland says with a giggle. "And I was done cleaning!"

"He makes a good point, Robin."

"Shut up."

"Anything else I can do?" Will asks, picking Roland up and setting him on the countertop, where he kicks his feet happily. "Got the grill lit?"

Robin nods out the back window to the little deck, on which the grill is smoldering merrily. "That's all set. I got most of the food out, so now we just have to cook and wait. Hopefully Roland's hair will be mostly dry by then—"

A knock at the door startles them all. Roland leaps down from the counter into Will's arms, who sets him rather unsteadily on the ground as he looks at Robin in alarm. "It's five til seven!" Robin hisses. "What are they doing here so early?"

"Maybe it's not them," Will tries to reason as Roland goes racing towards the front door. "Maybe it's some Girl Scouts selling cookies. Or someone from the electric company. Or—"

"They're here!" Roland cries happily.

Instantly Robin's hands are at his waist, trying to untie the apron before he answers the door. Will runs to open the fruit salad before giving up, only succeeding in ripping the price tag off. He swears under his breath, preparing to run for the door, but Robin gestures wildly to stop him. "Go out the back!" he whispers, the apron still half-twisted around him. Will shoots him a glare.

"What, you want it to be a secret?"

"That between two grown men we can barely put a dinner together without everything going to hell? Yes! Just go out the back. I'll call you afterwards."

"The things I do for you," Will mutters before running out the sliding door, disappearing into the backyard. Robin finally gets the apron off and smooths his shirt, praying that he looks decent. Roland is calling for him, and he quickly joins him at the front door just as he hears the bell ring.

"Well," he whispers to himself as he opens the door, "here goes nothing."


	5. Those Summer Nights

"Tell me the truth. Am I crazy to be doing this?"

Henry, sitting in the passenger seat of Regina's Mercedes with his feet stretched out in front of him, sighs. "We've been over this, Mom. We're having dinner with some new friends. How can that be crazy?" He snickers suddenly. "Now, the fact that you're freaking out about it, on the other hand…"

"I'm not freaking out. And get your feet off my dash." They're at a stop sign now, and Regina takes the opportunity to sweep Henry's feet back on the floor where they belong. Already the tender age of thirteen is making him sassy as hell, but one more grin and she forgives him—although that doesn't stop her from pointedly brushing off the spot where his feet had been before she puts her hands back on the wheel.

"It's okay, Mom. I know you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous!"

"You changed your outfit three times."

"That's because the weather forecast kept changing," Regina protests, but she knows that it's a weak defense at best.

"And you overbaked. Seriously, who needs two different pies if there's only going to be four people there?"

"I would have only gone with one, but _someone_ had to promise them my famous apple pie!" Regina cajoles, but even she can't hide the smile on her face at her son's teasing. "Besides, they might not like apple. Blueberry pie is perfect for a summer barbecue. I couldn't _not_ bring it."

"Sure, Mom. Whatever you say."

"Henry—"

"Mom, it's okay. Really. It's okay for you to be nervous about this, but it's also okay to be excited. I know it's been a while—"

"Henry!"

"—since you've liked someone like this. And I think Robin likes you too. It's natural to be nervous before a date, isn't it?"

Regina's gaze slides from the road and lands on her son. "You know far too much about this for my liking. And this is not a date."

Henry grins. "So you've told me twenty-three times."

"Don't push your luck, mister. I can turn right around and drop you off at home."

"Yeah, but you won't."

Regina rolls her eyes before reaching over to ruffle her son's hair. She knows the time is quickly coming when he won't let her do that at all out of fear of embarrassment, but until that day comes she wants to take full advantage of the privilege. "I always knew you'd end up too smart for your own good."

"Well, I have a really smart mom."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Henry Daniel Mills."

"So you always say."

They fall silent for a second after that, the soft _click_ of the turn signal the only sound in the car. Regina glances down at the directions to Robin and Roland's house, written out meticulously and perched in her lap as she drives, and sighs quietly.

"Henry, be honest with me. Did you even want to come tonight? I know that hanging out with a five year old isn't exactly something most kids your age would be looking forward to. I'm sure Robin and Roland would understand if you'd rather-"

"No, Roland's cool," Henry says, cutting her off before she can finish. "And really sweet. And Robin seems really nice. But it's not just them. I want to be there for you too, Mom. I figured you maybe wouldn't be so nervous if you knew you had someone on your team."

"Henry…" Regina is glad that her eyes are focused on the road as she blinks back a tear of gratitude. Her son is so caring and compassionate, and some days it is so easy to forget just how lucky she is…

"Plus," Henry adds with another little laugh, "when have you ever known me to turn down an invitation to a barbecue?"

Regina finally laughs as well. "Touché."

"You have nothing to worry about. Just relax and enjoy the food and have fun. You can do this. I've seen you deal with crazy parents and ridiculous budget cuts and out-of-control cafeterias. If you can handle that, a little backyard barbecue will be a piece of cake."

"Well, when you put it that way…" Regina says with a grin. She turns into a small subdivision after consulting the directions again. It's your typical suburban neighborhood with houses of varying styles and sizes, some sporting American flags for Memorial Day and most with toys or bikes littering the front yard. A few driveways have boats or RVs parked in them, and Regina slows down so she can read the house numbers. "I think it's up this way."

She glances down at the directions once more, absently repeating the address to herself as they pull up in front of a small brick ranch-style home. There's a basketball hoop in the driveway that looks like its seen better days, a child-sized plastic one on the ground below it. Regina smiles, remembering Henry having a similar one when he was Roland's age. "This looks promising…"

The house is cheerful, with a blue front door and several chalk drawings littering the driveway. Regina carefully pulls in and turns off the car, pretending to be taking in the tree in the front yard, the cluttered garage, and the curious yellow Lab studying them from the neighbors' yard. In actuality, she's trying to calm her racing heart down enough to open the door.

"You good, Mom?" Henry asks.

She opens her eyes and nods, smiling at her son as she unbuckles her seatbelt. "Fine. You take one pie, I'll grab the other."

It's a perfect night, clear and warm, but not too hot for an outdoor get-together. As Henry and Regina make their way up the sidewalk to the front door, they can hear Roland's excited voice already announcing their arrival. Somehow, this makes Regina feel a bit better. She shifts her grip on the pie so it won't topple from her grasp and knocks briskly on the door.

"Piece of cake, right?" she tells Henry.

"Piece of cake."

* * *

"Daddy, Daddy, they're here! Henry and Regina are here! Open the door!"

"I'm trying, Roland," Robin mutters, his hands fumbling a bit as he struggles to unlock it. The damn thing _still_ sticks sometimes, even after everything he's done to try and fix it. He can feel Regina and Henry's eyes on him through the windows, and he smiles and holds up one finger, letting them know he'll let them in in just a minute.

"Daddy, why is Uncle Will in the backyar—"

"There we go!" Robin cries out, cutting off his son as he finally swings open the door. "Sorry about that. Sticky lock."

"Not a problem." Regina and Henry both wear almost identical smiles, and they're each toting a foil-covered pie plate. At this rate, the amount of food they have between their two families is going to make this more like Thanksgiving than a simple barbecue. Henry's in a nice shirt and shorts, about on par with Robin and Roland, but it is the summery black sundress that Regina is wearing that catches his attention. She looks so effortlessly beautiful that for just a second, he's taken aback. Maybe he was right to have been nervous after all.

"May we come in?" Regina asks after a moment.

Robin realizes he's still standing in the doorway, and he can feel his face growing hot. "Of course! Sorry. Please." He steps back to let them inside. "Welcome to our home."

"Hi Henry! Hi Regina!" Roland chimes in gleefully.

"Well hello Roland! How are you?"

"I'm good!"

"Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yeah! We drew pictures of the play we saw yesterday, and I went on the monkey bars, and then we came back here and had to clean, and Daddy said—"

"Here, let me take those for you two!" Robin almost lunges for the pies in Henry and Regina's hands. "We can set these on the counter…" He almost hates having to interrupt his son twice now, but it's better than having him blurt out something mortifying, like the Saga of the Exploding Vacuum earlier. As he goes to put the pies in the kitchen, he catches a glimpse of Will in the backyard, looking not-so-subtly into the living room. Robin gestures to Will to get the hell out of there—well, as best as he can given he's carrying two delicious-smelling pies—and mouths some choice words that he sincerely hopes his guests don't notice. "These look wonderful, Regina. You really didn't have to."

"We brought apple and blueberry. I wasn't sure which—"

"Henry, do you like dinosaurs?" Roland interrupts as Robin rejoins them in the entryway, sneaking a glance out the window again as he does. Will is nowhere to be seen, thank God.

"I love dinosaurs! Who doesn't?" Henry responds without missing a beat. The look that comes over Roland's face is as if someone just told him that Christmas was coming early.

"I have lots of dinosaurs in my room! Wanna see?"

"Sure. Lead the way." Immediately Roland grabs Henry's hand as if they have been friends for years, half-leading and half-dragging him into the living room and down the hall towards his bedroom.

"Henry, take your shoes off first!" Regina calls after them, but the boys are already gone, chattering excitedly.

"It's all right. He can keep them on if he likes. I figured we would be outside most of the night anyway."

Regina smiles, and Robin watches her for a second as she takes in the room. He hopes that some of the bigger flaws—the sizable crack near the ceiling above the fireplace, the various water stains dotting the living room ceiling (albeit not as bad as the ones in the master bedroom)—have escaped her notice. "Would you like something to drink?" he asks, and she nods and follows him into the kitchen.

"I've always liked yellow kitchens," she remarks as they enter. "They always seem so cheerful."

It's awkward, and they both know it, but it's not quite a painful awkwardness. More like they're both testing the waters, trying to gauge how the other is feeling about all of this, trying to make themselves feel more comfortable. It's an awkwardness that Robin can live with, for now, but he is struck suddenly with the worry that they only feel comfortable around each other if their children are also present. What if Henry and Roland are the only thing keeping them—

"Chef knows best?" Regina remarks, and Robin bites back a curse as he realizes that he's left his apron sitting out with the slogan for all to see. He looks up to find her looking amusedly at him. "I was half-expecting 'Kiss the Cook.'"

"I may or may not have one of those, actually," Robin remarks, trying to play off his embarrassment. At least they're talking now, and she seems more at ease—that has to be a good sign, right?

"I guess you'll have to come back again to find out," he says before he can stop himself. Regina arches an eyebrow, still smirking at him, but says nothing. At least she doesn't seem to find his banter—if that is indeed what this is—too forward. "What can I get you? There's beer, wine, water, iced tea, lemonade…"

"Lemonade is fine, thank you," Regina tells him. "I'd take a beer, but I try not to drink when I know I have to drive Henry."

"Probably a good rule to have. Lemonade it is. I'll get some for the boys as well." He reaches into the fridge and pulls out the lemonade, smiling. _So far, so good._

While he busies himself with the drinks, Regina continues her exploration of the kitchen, taking in the small dining area and the deck outside where the grill is lit and ready to go. He's got to get the food on the grill soon, he reminds himself…but is that rude? Should he invite her outside with him, or would she rather go hang out with the boys while he cooks? Or—

"Your lilacs are beautiful," Regina remarks. Robin tenses for just a moment, glad that he's currently otherwise occupied and she can't see the wounded look that has no just come over his face. The lilacs were Marian's pride and joy. She would spend hours pruning the bushes, making sure they weren't too overgrown, cutting off the best blooms to bring inside. She always managed to smell like lilacs, even when the bushes were buried under feet of snow. The scent still lingers on some of her clothes, hanging in the closet where Robin still, after four years, cannot bring himself to throw them away.

"Thank you," he says finally, turning around and offering her her drink. She's standing on the other side of the kitchen counter now, watching him. "They were my wife's. I've done my best to take care of them, but I'm nowhere near as good as she was. She had a real green thumb."

"I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"No need to apologize, Regina. Marian would be very happy that you like her lilacs. She always claimed I didn't appreciate them enough anyway. " Robin turns back to face her, two more glasses of lemonade in his hands. "I'd better go deliver these to the boys and get everyone's dinner orders."

Regina follows him down the hall and into Roland's room, which has already returned to its natural state of organized chaos. A handful of dinosaur figurines and stuffed animals lay abandoned on the floor, and Roland's basket of Star Wars action figures is overturned on the bed. Roland stands on the bed, his eyes almost level with Henry's, showing off the plastic bow and arrow that Robin got him for his birthday last year.

"You hold it like this, and then you shoot it. Sometimes the suction cups on the end don't stick, though. It doesn't work as good as a real one, Daddy says, but I'm not big enough to use one like that yet."

"No, you are not," Robin interrupts them, and Roland turns with a cherubic grin. "I come bearing lemonade," Robin continues, and Roland hops off the bed and scrambles to retrieve his cup.

"Thanks, Daddy! I wanna show Regina my toys now!"

He spends the next five minutes doing just that, pulling her by the hand into the room and jumping excitedly from one plaything to another while Robin leans in the doorway, arms crossed and a smile on his face. Henry sits in the rocking chair sipping his own drink, against the wall under Roland's favorite _Doctor Who_ poster. It's the same chair that he and Marian used to use to rock Roland to sleep as a baby. Occasionally his eyes meet Robin's, and they smile. Finally he clears his throat, making his son look up at him. "I hate to interrupt, but I think it's time I get dinner started. What would everyone like? I have burgers and hot dogs, and there might be some bratwurst around here somewhere if I look hard enough..."

"I'll take a burger," Henry says immediately. "Probably two."

Regina rolls her eyes towards the ceiling. "Just wait until Roland's a teenager. He'll start eating you out of house and home."

"Noted. Burgers for Henry. Regina, what can I make you?"

"I think I'll also have a burger, thank you."

"Roland, let me guess. Hot dog for you?"

"Yes, please."

"All right. A hot dog for Roland, burgers for Regina and Henry. Seems simple enough."

"And yourself?" Regina asks.

"I might just be adventurous and have one of each."

"Oh my. Living dangerously there." Her smile is as mischievous as it is infectious.

"Stick around long enough, Regina, and you might find I'm a very adventurous sort of fellow."

"Noted," Regina replies, in the exact same tone Robin had used before. He feels a little thrill at the realization.

Damn. He really, _really_ likes this woman.

"If you want, I can give you a hand in the kitchen. If Roland doesn't mind you stealing me away."

"It's okay. I can play with Henry. Maybe we can even go outside!"

"As long as you don't get too close to the grill, or leave the yard, you can play wherever you want. Just let us know if you need anything. We'll set out some chips in case you two get hungry in the meantime. Here," he adds, offering a hand to Regina, who is sitting cross-legged on the floor of Roland's room. "Let me give you a hand there."

She doesn't protest, simply holds up her hand for him to take. She grasps it firmly as he gently pulls her to her feet, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach. He's acting like an adolescent boy with his first crush, and it's such a foreign feeling to him after all this time that he doesn't quite know what to do with himself now. There are no sparks or fireworks when their hands touch—he's not a completely naïve schoolboy any longer, after all—but something about the contact feels so _right_ that it takes him aback for a moment. She smiles when she's back on her feet, nodding towards the doorway. "Shall we?" Robin asks with a chuckle.

"Lead the way. "

* * *

It's easy to talk to Robin, Regina realizes. Now that the initial awkwardness has passed, words come easier between them, which she's more grateful for than she's sure Robin knows. He stands at the grill, the scent of charcoal and cooking meat wafting in as Regina stands in the kitchen, spooning potato salad into a bowl, and they chat through the open window. They talk about their children, about work, about themselves. Regina learns that Robin is from Nottingham, where his parents still live, but met his wife when they were both going to college in Cambridge (her studying abroad at Clare College, him at Anglia-Ruskin University). She tells him about facing her mother's wrath after deciding, a week into her pre-law studies, that she wanted to pursue education instead. She steadfastly avoids any and all mention of Daniel—she's going to put off re-opening that wound as long as she possibly can—but she tells tales of her college days as best as she can without him, delighting in making Robin laugh as she relays her tales of woe during her time as an RA in her dorm. He, in turn, makes her nearly spit out her lemonade when he tells her a hilarious story about him, Will, and Marian getting hopelessly lost on a weekend in Paris. Things are going so well that she doesn't realize that she's probably gone one step too far when, after Robin comes in to retrieve more plates, she asks him about Marian's death.

The question slips out before she can stop it, in a rare moment when she's apparently temporarily turned off her brain. Immediately she sees his face fall and wishes she could take it back. What was she thinking, asking something so painful and personal? How would she like it if someone did that to her?

_Of course,_ a nagging, bitter voice reminds her, _that would require you telling someone that you have someone in your life that you've lost._

"You don't have to—" she says quickly, mentally berating herself. So much for all of Henry's optimistic talk about how tonight is going to go—she's just gone and ruined it all by asking about, of all things, his dead wife.

But Robin shakes his head, giving her a faint smile. "It's all right. I don't mind."

"Of course you mind," Regina whispers, but she's not sure he hears her.

"No, Regina, please. I—I think it's good to talk about it sometimes. It's better than keeping the pain locked away. I really don't mind, I promise. It was…it was an aneurysm, in her brain. Just up and blew one day. She had no idea it was there."

"Oh my God."

"I wasn't with her, but she was with some friends. She wasn't alone when it happened. That was my only consolation for a very long time. And I talk to Roland about her all the time. It's not as if she's ever truly gone from our lives. I want him to grow up knowing that he can always come to me to ask about her, if he wants to. I never want that part of our life—of his life—to be kept from him."

"That's good," Regina says immediately, looking up at him. She's been staring at the grain of the countertops the entire time he's been speaking, but now she meets his eyes. _Damn—_she'd forgotten just how blue they are. "And if I may say, you've done an amazing job raising Roland on your own. He's such a sweet boy—so charming and smart and sweet—"

Robin beams like she's just announced that he's won the lottery. "Well, thank you for that. It can get difficult, as I'm sure you know."

"Probably better than most."

Robin opens his mouth, then shuts it again just as quickly, looking unsure. "I—you don't have to answer, but—is Henry's father…"

"Oh, he's alive. At least, I think he is. I've never actually met him."

She almost laughs at the way that Robin's eyes nearly bulge out of his head. "I—I beg your pardon?" he stammers.

"I adopted Henry when he was two months old."

His face immediately softens. "By yourself?" She can't be sure, but he sounds impressed.

Regina gives a nod, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth at the memory of the first time she laid eyes on her son."I knew it was the right time. I didn't want to wait until I'd met the right person to start a family." _Mostly because I had already met and lost the person that I wanted to start a family with, and it was too late._ It's strange, she thinks, how she and Robin have so much more in common than he knows, but she can't bring herself to tell him. Not yet. It's too soon, too personal. If she had her way, she would never tell him.

"I didn't have that many issues trying to adopt as a single parent, to be honest. And I've always had friends who have been willing to help out with Henry, so it's not like I've been completely going it alone."

"It takes a village," Robin remarks.

"That's the thing, though. Sometimes it really does." She pauses a minute, looking out into the backyard. "Henry's birth mother was barely eighteen when she had him. She was just a kid. She couldn't handle it, and I don't blame her. Henry spent two months in foster care before he came to me. His birth mom—her name is Emma—well, Henry tracked her down a few years ago."

"That must have been…" Robin trails off, unable to find the right words.

"You know, it actually wasn't so bad. I mean, at first, it felt like she was intruding, especially since she had originally stipulated that it be a closed adoption. It felt like she was trying to take my son from me. But Henry had always known that he was adopted, and I can understand wanting to get to know that part of his past." She chuckles wryly. "At least, now I can. At the time…"

"Did he not tell you?"

Regina smirks. "He stole my credit card and used it to pay to find her. My son is nothing if not resourceful. But Emma's not bad. She's great with Henry, and we get along now. She's getting married later this summer. Henry and I are both going."

"That's great. Congratulations to her."

"Yeah. I think Henry's pretty excited about it. He's only been to one wedding before, and he was a little too young to really remember it. He and Emma's fiancée get along really well, too. As long as Henry's happy, I'm happy."

"That's a very good way to look at it."

"I like to think so."

They stand there a minute, smiling at each other, before Robin seems to remember what he came in for. "I think the food's ready," he tells her quickly, crossing behind her to grab a few bright yellow paper plates from the cabinet. "We can set it up in here, buffet-style, and eat out on the deck. The food off the grill can come last."

"Very efficient."

He winks at her, and Regina's breathing quickens. What is she, a giggling high school cheerleader now? _Get a grip._

"Boys!" Robin calls out. "Dinner's ready!"

They come running, and food is dished out. Henry whispers to his mother how he's glad he talked her out of bringing the deviled eggs she was considering as he takes in the spread before him. His plate is quickly filled with chips and potato salad, and he loads up two hamburger buns with ketchup, pickles, and mustard in preparation for what is to come. Regina helps Roland before she serves herself, helping him scoop watermelon from the fruit salad and put it on his plate along with a sizable handful of barbecue chips. "Get some fruit, Henry," she warns, not even looking at her son's plate as she gives herself a helping of pasta salad. Henry rolls his eyes at her and reaches for the spoon.

Toting their plates, they march outside, where Robin stands at the grill ready to serve. The patio table is waiting for them, and Roland stands on his tiptoes to watch his father at work. He is served first, eagerly biting into his hot dog before he even sits down. Regina is next, and Roland eagerly pulls her down to sit beside him. Henry is waiting his turn and Roland is munching happily when a sudden buzzing noise attracts Regina's attention, and Roland begins to scream.

"_Daddy!"_ he cries out, making her jump as he leaps out of his chair, running towards his father. "Daddy, there's a bee! It's gonna sting me! It's gonna sting me!"

The next few events happen almost too quickly for Regina to see. Henry moves quickly to get out of the way of Roland, who is moving far too close to his father and the lit grill for Regina's liking. The next thing she knows, Roland has fallen to the floor of the deck, crying, and Robin is turning, spatula still in hand, almost tripping over his son and the cover of the grill. The burgers on the spatula fall to the ground, immediately covered by ashes and dirt and who knows what else. "Roland! Are you all right?" Robin asks, but Regina is already there, moving to kneel before Roland on the splintered, sun-bleached wood of the deck.

"Hey," she whispers, reaching out to put a hand on Roland's shoulder. "It's okay. It flew away. It's all over now, Roland."

In front of them, Regina can hear Robin and Henry conferring over whether or not the burgers can be salvaged (the phrase "five second rule" is uttered by her son, and she has to fight the urge to protest right then and there) but she focuses on the task at hand. Roland sniffles pitifully, hugging his scraped knees to his chest. Now that the excitement is over, his tears have begun to subside."I'm sorry. I was scared. I don't like bees."

"It's okay, Roland. Never feel like you have to apologize for being scared. But that wasn't a bee."

Another sniff. Robin turns around, spatula in hand, to study Regina and his son. "It wasn't?" Roland asks.

"Oh no. Did you see the way it flew right to us? It was a wasp. Bees are sweet and mind their own business—all they care about is pollinating flowers and making honey. They won't bother you if you won't bother them. But wasps are bullies. They go after people just because they feel like it, and they're always angry."

"Like The Hulk?"

Regina smiles, amused by the comparison. In so many ways, Roland and Henry are exactly alike. "Just like the Hulk, only they don't have a nice side like Bruce Banner does. Trust me, nobody blames you for being afraid of a wasp. Henry and I were scared too, didn't you see?"

"Terrified," Henry adds, trying to help. Regina nods approvingly at him.

That brings a little smile to Roland's face, but he still looks unsure. "But I tripped Daddy," he said softly. "I ruined your burgers."

"Roland, you didn't ruin anything!" Robin says quickly, turning away from the grill. "That's why we always make extras. They won't take too long to cook. I'll go throw them on the grill right now. It's all right, I promise."

"Okay," Roland says finally. He eyes Regina a moment, and before she can react, his little arms are around her neck and squeezing tight. She returns the embrace immediately, her eyes closing as she hugs him, remembering what it was like when Henry was this small. "Thank you, Regina."

"Not a problem. Do those knees of yours need a Band-Aid?"

Roland pulls away and studies first one knee, then the other. "Nah. Do you think so, Daddy?"

"Just a little scrape. You'll live. I don't think we'll need to amputate," Robin quips, coming to ruffle his son's hair and kiss the top of his head.

Roland giggles. "Daddy!"

"Unless, of course, you _want_ me to…"

"_Daddy!"_

"All right, you win. Roland 1, wasp 0. Now, about those extra burgers…"

* * *

After that, the night is mostly uneventful. They talk, and eat, and laugh, and become far closer friends than they were at the beginning of the evening. Roland eats two pieces of Regina's blueberry pie, and when they go out to the front yard to blow bubbles after dinner his face is stained with blue. None of them seem to want the night to end, even Henry who Robin is sure has better things to do than play with a five-year-old. It's only when Robin realizes that his son is yawning widely enough to almost split his head in two that he decides it's time to cut the evening short.

"Now, what do we say to Regina and Henry for coming over?"

"Thanks for coming!" Roland says obediently.

"Thank you so much for having us. We should do it again soon."

"At our house next time," Henry says quickly. "We've got a pool."

"You have a _pool?!"_ Roland shrieks.

"We'll be in touch, definitely," Robin steps in before Roland can get too riled up. "Until then…I suppose we might see you at school?"

"If you don't, then you'll definitely see us at the end of the year picnic," Regina tells him.

Robin's brow furrows, trying to remember the date on the flier that he knows is hanging on the refrigerator at this very moment. "When is that again?"

"It's Thursday night at 7."

"Right. Thursday. We'll be there, right, Roland?"

"Yeah!"

"Well. I guess this is goodnight," Robin says softly.

"Goodnight. And thanks again for everything." She smiles softly at him, her brown eyes meeting his. "It was really nice. Now I guess we'd better let you get this one into bed. And I'll be in touch about…about doing this again."

He opens the door for them, and watches as they start off down the driveway, Regina once again walking with one arm wrapped around Henry's shoulder. Robin has just sent Roland off to brush his teeth when he hears his phone go off in the other room.

"Hello?" he asks, half-hoping that it's Regina already, but mentally kicking himself for even thinking that it might be.

"All right, spill. I want to know everything," Will says loudly in his ear.

"What the hell—do you have spies watching my house or something? How do you even know they've gone?"

"Because it's almost Roland's weekend bedtime, and I know everything."

Robin sighs heavily. "Then you should know not to call me during bedtime."

"Fine. I'll give you half an hour and then I'm calling again. And I'll keep calling until you give me details."

"Remind me why we're friends again?"

"Because I come over with home appliances and watermelons when you need me to, no questions asked. If tonight was a success, you practically owe it to me."

This time Robin can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips. "All right. Just let me get Roland to bed and I'll tell you what happened."

* * *

"What did I tell you, Mom?" Henry says triumphantly as they drive away. "Aside from the little mishap with the wasp, this was a really fun night. I think Robin really likes you."

"I don't know about that, Henry."

"He'd be crazy not to."

She really, really hopes that her little boy is right. She's not sure what it is about this man—this unfairly handsome, uncommonly kind single father—but he's making her feel things that she hasn't felt in years, and even the little voice in her head that tells her she isn't good enough is finally starting to shut up. She doesn't quite know what she and Robin have yet. But she already knows she doesn't want to mess this up.

"I never should have doubted you, Henry."

Even in the darkening summer night, she can see his smile. "When are you gonna learn, Mom, that I'm always right?"


	6. Ants Ruin a Picnic

The next few days leading up to the picnic pass quickly. Despite the new addition of Regina and Henry into their lives, Robin is almost surprised to realize that real life still goes on. There is school to attend, work to do, tee-ball games to coach and play, and the looming end of the school year to prepare for. Robin admits that he looks for Regina every time he comes to pick Roland up at school, but their paths never seem to cross and Roland doesn't report seeing her during the school day. He supposes the superintendent's schedule is even more packed than usual during this time of year. He doesn't mind, really. Regina has other responsibilities, just as he does. But still, he can't help but feel a little pang of disappointment every time he doesn't see her.

When Robin wakes up to gray skies and showers on the morning of the picnic, with the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance, he is worried at first. He vaguely recalls seeing something on the sheet about the picnic with a rain location and date, but he can't remember it now. Would they cancel it if the weather got bad enough? He finds himself glancing out the window all day at work, checking the weather on his phone almost constantly, worried that the forecast might interrupt the only sure chance he has at seeing Regina this week. He knows he's being ridiculous—he's gone way past schoolboy crush now—but he can't help it. He even considers calling Regina up and asking her himself (who better than the superintendent to tell him what the plan is for inclement weather?) but he forces himself to shove his phone back into his pocket every time the thought arises. Somehow, he has a feeling that Will would kill him if he knew he was considering it. Isn't there some sort of rule about how many days you're supposed to wait before calling after a date? Robin has admittedly been out of the dating game for a while, but he definitely remembers hearing something along those lines…

_Of course,_ he reminds himself with a wry smile, _that wasn't a date._

But thankfully, this close to summer, storms like this pass quickly. By the time he picks up a very eager Roland from school, the rain has downgraded to a fine mist, and he's hopeful that the picnic will go on as scheduled. Their afternoon is spent at the grocery store picking up buns and paper plates to contribute—the picnic is, of course, a potluck, and Robin doesn't necessarily trust his culinary skills to something like this (and after the events of the barbecue there's no way in hell that he'll be trusting himself around watermelon any time soon). The parking lot of the school is entirely full when they get there later that evening, and he has to circle around a few times before finally giving up and pulling into the parking lot of the church next door.

"Daddy, are we gonna be late?" Roland pipes up from the backseat. Robin's eyes glance upward as he maneuvers the car into a parking spot, catching his son's gaze in the rearview mirror. Roland is grinning from ear to ear.

"No, we are not. Are you ever going to let that go?"

Roland just laughs, kicking his feet against his car seat eagerly. Robin quickly parks, and together they make their way to the picnic. The sun has finally graced them with its presence, although the pavement is still wet from the day's rain, and as he passes other families he hears a few of them excitedly speculating about the possibility of a rainbow. Several tents have been set up on the lawn, and families mill around, eating at picnic tables or on the grass as kids run underfoot. The playground is packed, with students and younger siblings mostly, and Roland excitedly waves to a few of his friends as they pass by.

"Look, Daddy, it's Miss Belle!" he says, tugging on Robin's hand. Robin catches Belle's eye—she's surrounded by a crowd of adoring five-year-olds and their parents—and gives her a little wave, which she returns before going back to her conversation. She's in her element here, a smile lighting up her face, and for a moment Robin wishes that Will was here to see her like this. Of course, it would probably make his crush on her skyrocket to unreasonable levels—not that Robin is really one to judge these days—but it would be worth it to see the look on his friend's face when he caught sight of her.

Roland tugs on his hand again, more insistently this time. "Daddy, come on!"

"You can go say hi to her in a minute, Roland. I need to figure out where to drop this stuff off first."

He seems to find this reasonable, although his brown eyes still dart around excitedly, taking in the crowd. "Daddy, everyone else is here already," he observes. "Are we late?"

Robin sighs before laughing, in spite of himself, and reaches down to ruffle Roland's hair. He is his mother's son in every possible sense of the word.

They finally locate the food tables, clustered together under the biggest tent, and join the seemingly endless line for the food after dropping off their contributions to the picnic. After only a few minutes, Roland is already getting restless, shifting from foot to foot and craning his head to see everyone. Robin isn't sure whether he's looking for Belle, his friends, or Regina.

"It looks like we're going to be here a while, Roland. Do you want to go talk to Miss Belle for a minute or two? I'll be right here whenever you come back." Ordinarily Robin wouldn't want his son wandering around on his own, but it's a school-sponsored event with parents and teachers everywhere, and he figures it's a pretty safe bet.

"Are you sure, Daddy?"

"Of course."

"What if the line starts moving while I'm gone?" he presses, concern in his brown eyes as he looks up at Robin.

"I think I know what kind of things you like to eat, Roland. Do you trust me to pick out your dinner for you?"

Roland considers this for a minute. "Will you get me lots of watermelon?" he asks finally.

Robin chuckles, nodding. "Of course I will."

"And a hot dog!"

"Naturally."

"And some of Miss Belle's cupcakes?"

"Maybe just one to start with, but if you're still hungry later, yes."

Roland considers for a minute longer before nodding. "Okay. I'll be right back!" He darts off into the throng of people before Robin can so much as call after him to be careful, but he knows he doesn't need to worry. A small smile crosses his face as he watches Roland disappear into the crowd, his orange Tshirt a beacon as he makes a beeline for Belle on the other side of the tent. He realizes that the line has moved forward while he's been distracted and takes a hasty step forward, colliding entirely with the shoulder of someone who had taken the opportunity to slip into the empty space in line.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there."

"Oh my god, are you okay?" A female voice, loud and confident but sounding truly concerned, and most interesting of all, a distinctly British accent.

"I'm fine." Now that the initial shock of the collision has worn off, Robin can now get a good look at the woman he rammed into. She's tall and good-looking, wearing a polka-dotted sundress seemingly straight out of the sixties, and her long red hair flows freely down her back. Her eyes are blue and full of concern and a little curiosity. "I just wasn't paying attention."

"Well, neither was I. I hope you don't think I was trying to jump the queue or anything. We had a bit of a fiasco with my daughter's shoes and ended up getting here a little late. I was just trying to put these on the table, and that was the first time there was an opening in the line." She holds up a tray of perfect deviled eggs for Robin to inspect, as if to prove her story.

"Well, no harm done, then. I just hope I didn't hurt you or anything."

"Oh, you're fine, don't worry. And I still managed to save the eggs." Robin watches as she maneuvers her tray onto the table, sandwiched between a bowl of pasta salad and another of coleslaw. "No harm done, just like you said."

"Right. Well, again, I'm sorry." He flashes her a smile, assuming that she'll retreat to the back of the line now that she's dropped off her food, but she's still planted in place, studying him intently. A bit embarrassed by the close scrutiny, Robin picks up two paper plates and begins loading them up with food, making sure to include three big triangles of watermelon for Roland.

"I think I remember seeing you at curriculum night earlier in the year, but we must not have spoken," the woman says suddenly as he scoops up a serving of potato salad. "I definitely would have remembered meeting a fellow Brit." She flashes him a dazzling smile, holding out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Zelena. Zelena Greene."

"Robin Locksley. I'm Roland's father. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. My daughter's name is Nessa-Rose. Maybe your son has mentioned her? They must have the same teacher."

Robin's brow furrows a bit as he thinks, but he is finally forced to shake his head. "I don't think so, sorry." _I would definitely remember hearing a name like that._

He thinks he detects a flash of irritation in Zelena's blue eyes, but she brushes it off almost immediately. "Well, it's all right. It's a fairly big class. I don't think Nessa has mentioned Roland either, come to think of it. Such a shame. I would have loved to have met you sooner."

Robin clears his throat, suddenly uncomfortable although he can't quite say why. "So, Zelena, just where in England are you from?"

She seems to relax. "Cambridge," she tells him proudly.

It's less of a punch in the gut than he'd been expecting, but that familiar twinge of grief is there all the same. "Small world," he says softly. "I went to uni there. Anglia-Ruskin. I'm from Nottingham, though. Originally."

"Oh, it's beautiful up there."

"It is, but Cambridge is nice too. Gorgeous city. I miss it quite a lot sometimes, actually."

"Me too. Sometimes I think about going back, but it would be nearly impossible with Nessa's father still here. He wouldn't hear of letting me take her out of the country." At Robin's quizzical look, she rolls her eyes dramatically. "Absolutely _brutal_ divorce. We're still trying to battle it out on the custody front."

"Sorry to hear that," Robin says, wincing in sympathy. "That must be hard."

"It is. But Nessa's been such a trooper about it, and it's worth the fight, don't you think?" Zelena's eyes flicker, not subtly, down to the fingers of his left hand, catching sight of his wedding ring. "Is your wife…"

Before she can say the inevitable "_here"_ or "_with Roland"_ or any of the other assumptions that people make when they see the ring, Robin stops her.

"Roland's mother passed away about four years ago, I'm afraid."

Zelena looks mortified. "Oh my God, I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's all right. You didn't know."

"Still, I feel horrible. Just look at the impression I'm making. First I smack into you and then I bring that up…"

"Really, Zelena, it's fine. I'm used to it, honestly. You didn't do anything wrong, believe me."

"But here I am complaining about my lot and what you've gone through is ten times worse than a nasty divorce…"

"If there's one thing I've learned from all this, it's that everyone's got their troubles. Me having mine doesn't trivialize yours or diminish them or make them any less important." He gives her a smile, although it's a bit shaky. This Zelena means well, he's sure, but she's sure as hell making him a little nervous with her…intensity. When did he start sweating?

"You're right, of course. I've never heard it put that way before."

Robin smiles again and gives an absent nod as he serves himself some fruit salad.

"You should join our single parents support group!" Zelena says suddenly. "We'd love to have you."

"Um…" Robin stammers, caught off-guard by the sudden invitation. "I…I didn't know the school had a group like that."

Zelena's smile becomes almost blinding. "We didn't until recently. It was my idea. I was recently divorced and I didn't really have anyone to talk to about it—my married friends could sympathize, yeah, and rant with me over a bottle of wine while Nessa was with my ex, but they didn't really _get it_, you know?"

Robin doesn't know. He doesn't have any married friends, not anymore.

"And one day I just decided that there had to be other parents in the school going through similar situations, and that we needed to be there for each other in a way that our other friends couldn't for us. It's good to be around people who know just how hard it is to be a single parent, you know? We have to stick together. That was my idea behind it, anyway. So I started it up. We meet twice every month just to hang out and talk, and our kids are always welcome—makes it _so_ much easier than trying to find a babysitter! We go on little outings too, with the kids, about once a month or so. You missed our one for May, but we're going to the zoo together next month. Maybe you and Roland would like to come?"

"Um…maybe." Roland does love the zoo.

"Why don't I give you my phone number so you can contact me about joining? Or you could just look it up in the school directory, I guess. Our next meeting is next Tuesday night. I hope to see you and Roland there."

"We'll try to make it," Robin assures her, although he's almost positive it's a lie. He's tried support groups like that before, and while he knows they're great resources that have helped others in the past, he's never found one of them particularly useful to him. They've neared the end of the line now, and Robin busies himself serving up hot dogs for himself and Roland, balancing the plates in his hands so they don't topple over. The drinks are located on another nearby table with a blessedly shorter line, but he's not quite sure how to shake off this woman who seems to have attached herself like a burr to his side. He clears his throat. "Well, it was really nice to meet you, Zelena, and I'll definitely think about what you've said. But I'm afraid I have a very hungry son that is expecting his dinner soon…"

"And I've got to take my rightful place at the back of the queue while there's still food left for me and Nessa to eat," Zelena says immediately. "Well, Robin Locksley, let me just say that it was a _pleasure_ to meet you. I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

Why does he like that sentence so much more when it's coming out of Regina's mouth?

"Same to you. I'm sure I'll see you around." Plates in hand, he sidesteps her, intent on grabbing some drinks and locating Roland as soon as possible.

"Don't forget to try one of my deviled eggs," she calls out to him before he can make his escape entirely. "They're famous. Some even say they're _wickedly_ good."

He turns and flashes her what he hopes is a natural-looking smile. "Wouldn't miss it. I'll grab one when I come back for seconds."

"I hope you do."

* * *

Maybe it's the fact that this is Henry's last school picnic here before he starts at the high school in the fall, but Regina feels like this is the best one she's ever been to. Henry's abandoned her already in search of food and friends—she can see him perched atop the monkey bars with a plate in his lap, laughing at something Paige is saying, and Regina is pretty sure she'll lecture him later about setting a bad example for the younger kids with his choice of seating arrangement, but for now she's content to let him have fun. She sips from a paper cup of iced tea as she wades through the crowd, stopping to say hello to friends and parents that she knows, toting a plate of food and searching for an empty seat. She's just about to give up and go to one of the benches on the playground when she suddenly spots a very familiar face.

"Well hello there, Roland!"

The little boy turns at the sound of his name. He is frowning, his brows knit together and his lips near to a pout, but the moment he realizes who it is a smile returns to his face. Regina grins at the dimples that bite into his cheeks as he grins. "Hi, Regina!"

"I was wondering when we'd bump into you! Where's your dad?"

Roland makes a vague gesture behind them. "He's in line for dinner. It was really long."

"Why was that frown on your face when I saw you? Is something wrong?"

Roland's smile falters a bit. "I wanted to talk to Miss Belle, but she was really busy. She's talking to _everybody!_ And Daddy says it's not polite to interrupt."

"Well, your daddy's right, it isn't. I'm sure Miss Belle appreciates you waiting your turn. It can be hard being a teacher on nights like this. You have to make sure everyone who wants to talk to you gets to, and sometimes that takes a while."

Roland shrugs. "It's gonna take _forever._ The picnic is gonna be _over_ by then."

"Oh, I don't think so. But if you want, I can keep you company while you wait."

That makes him brighten a bit. "Okay."

"You know, the reason everyone wants to talk to Miss Belle is because the school year is almost up. In just a few days, you'll be on summer vacation!"

"Yeah! Daddy and me are gonna go swimming, and to the library a lot, and some days he lets me come hang out at the store, and we're gonna ride bikes…"

"And are you excited to start first grade in the fall?" Regina asks, smiling down at Roland.

He makes a face, scrunching his nose in an expression that Regina knows well, because she's been known to do it too. She almost laughs. "I guess so," he says finally. He doesn't sound convinced. "But I don't want to leave Miss Belle."

"Well, you'll still be able to pop in and see her when school starts again. Henry does it all the time. And you'll like first grade, I promise. Mr. Nolan and Miss Tinker are both wonderful teachers, and I think you'd be happy with either of them. Plus, you'll still see Miss French on library days, won't you?"

"Yeah, I guess so. She always helps me pick out the best books. Last night Daddy and I read _If You Give a Mouse a Cookie._"

"That's a great one! One of Henry's favorites."

They spend a few more minutes chatting. It's odd, how as Henry has grown up Regina has almost forgotten how refreshing it can be to talk to a child as young as Roland. Everything is amazing in their eyes (well, almost everything) and their laughter can light up a room. In her job, Regina tries her best to interact with the kids as much as she can, but she mostly deals with parents and teachers and administrators. What would her life be like if she'd gone down another path? The path of teacher instead of admin? The thought had crossed her mind more than once…

"There you are!" Robin's voice, unmistakable to her now, suddenly cuts through the crowd. He's holding two plates laden high with food, and struggling to balance two drinks on top of them. Regina quickly sets her cup on the ground and rescues him, holding one cup in her hand while giving the other to an eager Roland. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Well, Regina found me first," Roland giggles.

"I can see that." Robin smiles indulgently at him before looking back at Regina. "Lovely to see you again."

"Likewise. I have to say, you're a saint for braving the food line on your own. I've known a few PTA moms to come to blows over who got the last Orangesicle cupcake."

"Shame I missed the brawl, then. Although that probably rules out the next suggestion I was going to make."

"And that would be?"

He gives her a wink. "Alcohol."

Regina gives the sort of unladylike snort of laughter that would have sent her mother into a conniption when she was growing up.

"What, you don't think it would help to lighten the mood? Liven up the place?"

"Rumor has it they tried it once, before my time here. It did not end well. We save that for the faculty and administrative banquet, anyway."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to crash that then, won't I?"

"That can be arranged," Regina quips, stealing one of Henry's favorite lines from _Star Wars._

"Daddy, I'm hungry!" Roland interrupts, and Robin almost jumps, realizing he's still holding both plates hostage.

"Right! Sorry, Roland. Let's go sit down. Would Regina like to join us? I think a handful of seats just opened up at that picnic table over there."

Regina naturally agrees to join them, and they make their way to a few empty spots in the middle of the table. Roland honors Regina by deciding to sit next to her instead of his father, and Robin slides in across from them. He immediately digs into his first slice of watermelon, the juice running down his chin, and the adults laugh.

"Roland, do you know a girl named Nessa-Rose?" Robin asks before he can forget. "I just ran into her mother. Apparently she's also in Miss Belle's class."

He doesn't miss the look that flicker's over Roland's face as he nods, face and hands sticky with juice. "Uh huh."

"Do you not like her?"

Roland squirms in his seat, tearing off a bit of his hot dog bun with wet fingers. On impulse, Regina grabs a napkin and quickly wipes his hands so he doesn't stain his main course with watermelon juice. "She's okay."

"Roland," Robin presses.

The boy sighs. "She's a tattletale sometimes. She gets people into trouble."

"That's not very nice," Regina says, her tone neutral.

"Well, sometimes they deserve it, like when Jack took the last of Katie's cupcake when she wasn't looking. But other times…"

"She just does it to be mean. I get it." Robin gives a sage nod before glancing up at Regina. "Do you know the mother, then? Zelena?"

Regina forces out a wry laugh. "Believe me, everyone knows her. She's known for her—"

"Intensity?"

"I was going to say tenacity, but that works too. I actually went to that support group a couple of times, but it was never really for me."

"Why not, may I ask?"

Regina shrugs. "Well, first of all, most of the kids were a lot younger than Henry, so he would mostly sit and read his book. After the first two times he started begging me not to bring him. And as for the adults…well, our situations are just so different. Most of them have been married. I never was. I've been going it alone since the beginning, so it's a different dynamic. We just didn't really connect."

"I see."

"Do you think you're going to go?"

He makes a face. "I haven't really decided yet. Maybe. If we have time. That Tee-ball schedule can be pretty demanding, you know."

She laughs. "I'm sure."

"Do you go to all of these things?" Robin asks curiously, changing the subject. "That's a lot of picnics to attend."

"Oh, no. Only this one."

"Doesn't that make all the other schools in the district get jealous?"

"I guess it might, but I'm here tonight as a parent, not an administrator."

"You wear many hats around here, it would seem."

"I am a uniquely talented individual."

"Oh, I'm sure of it." That playful spark she saw at his house is back in his eye, and Regina is almost afraid of how much she loves it.

Regina laughs lightly. "I know I can get pretty busy, but I try to be at all of the school events that Henry wants me to be."

At that, Robin nods. "It can get difficult, can't it? Being there when there's so many other things on your plate. But it's always worth it for them, isn't it?"

A soft smile crosses Regina's face as she looks up to see Henry coming to join them, one hand in the air as he waves goodbye to Paige and the rest of his friends. "Of course it is."

* * *

As it turns out, Regina is right. It is the best end of year picnic she can ever remember attending.


	7. We All Scream for Ice Cream

After the picnic, Robin and Roland don't see Henry and Regina for a while.

The elementary grades at Roland and Henry's school finish for the school year before the middle schoolers, so Roland's last week of school is filled with playdates and field trips and his first ever Field Day, which Robin happily attends despite the torrential rainfall that decides to show up and soak the playground. Henry, meanwhile, is busy with exams, or so Regina tells Robin as they pass each other in the parking lot on Roland's last day of school. And with summer knocking at their door, business picks up at Robin's store, people flocking to buy hiking shoes and camping equipment and anything else they're convinced they need for a summer of fun. Not that Robin is complaining, of course. This kind of chaos is one that he can handle, and more business at the store is never a bad thing.

Thankfully, a tee-ball game prevents them from attending that week's meeting of Zelena's single parents support group. Robin is just glad he didn't have to come up with some other excuse.

It's a whirlwind week, but an emotional one too as he watches Roland cross the stage at his kindergarten graduation ceremony. He wears a little cap made of construction paper and clutches a certificate as his eyes search for Robin in the crowd of the auditorium, lighting up when he spots him in the third row. He waves at his father excitedly, and Robin waves back, smiling through the tears that are pricking his eyes. He is proud, so proud of his son, but everything still feels wrong somehow. Marian should be sitting there with him, watching Roland get his certificate, seeing him up onstage with Belle and all of his friends. She should be here with them, and although Robin tells Roland almost every day that she's always watching down on them, that she's never too far away, it doesn't always dull the ache in his own heart.

But watching his son's smile reminds Robin that today is a day to smile, not to cry; a day to celebrate Roland and the future instead of dwelling on the past. And when Roland comes running up to him at the reception after the ceremony, as his arms come around Robin's neck as he scoops his son off the floor and into his arms, he swears that he can feel Marian there with them too.

The next few days fly by far too quickly, as summer days always do. One night after dinner, Robin and Roland find themselves down by the waterfront, walking along the boardwalk and looking at the boats. It's a favorite activity of theirs in the summertime, walking in the sun, browsing in the shops, seeing which boats come back year after year. Ice cream is, of course, inevitably involved. Robin walks along the boardwalk with his hands in his pockets, watching as his son darts maybe a little too close to the water's edge for comfort, trying to see every boat as the waves gently lap at the boardwalk beneath their feet.

"Careful, Roland. You're going to give me a heart attack," Robin calls out, but his voice is lazy and has the faintest hint of a smile in it. He knows Roland would never get too close to the edge.

"Sorry, Daddy."

"You want that ice cream yet? Or we could go into that one shop with the cat and see how they're doing. I know you like petting the kitty."

"Not yet. Look, Daddy, this boat has Ariel!"

Robin stops, following his son's gaze to the hull of the boat in front of them. It's a good-sized one, and sure enough, a little Ariel mermaid is painted on it along with the name. "Would you look at that? Can you read the name for me?"

"The…song of the sea. The _Song of the Sea_!"

"Very good. Miss Belle would be very proud of you if she were here, I'm sure."

"I'm a really good reader, Daddy," Roland says confidently.

Robin ruffles Roland's curls, bringing him closer to his side. "Of course you are. You're your mother's son, after all. She read everything she could get her hands on, you know. We'll be sure to keep you practicing this summer. You'll be the best in your class when school starts this fall."

"Yeah!"

"Now, how about that ice cream?"

"Robin? Robin! Roland!"

Her voice is unmistakable, but for an instant Robin can't believe it's really her. What are the chances, running into her down here? He looks up, hardly daring to hope, and catches sight of Regina and Henry hurrying towards them, smiles bright on their faces. He lifts one hand in a wave, and Roland is already rushing towards them as if shot from a cannon, his shoes clattering on the boardwalk. "Fancy seeing you here!" Robin calls out.

"We were just saying that it felt like ages since we'd seen you two," Regina says as soon as they reach him. Roland is so excited he's practically bouncing out of his shoes."Although I guess we did just talk yesterday."

"Wait, you did?" Henry asks, interrupting his conversation with Roland, clearly surprised. "You didn't mention that, Mom."

"We've been texting…a bit."

Henry raises an eyebrow but says nothing. It takes everything that Robin has in him not to laugh. Despite the fact that he knows that Henry is adopted and he and Regina share no genetics whatsoever, the boy still manages to look exactly like his mother sometimes.

"How was your day today, Roland?" Regina asks, looking down at the bouncing five-year-old and changing the subject before her son can pry further.

"It was good!" Roland replies, jumping up. "We went to see a movie!"

"What movie?"

"_Mad Max,"_ Robin says with a completely straight face before Roland can answer. "They're never too young for an apocalypse movie, I think."

"Oh, no. Never too young for violence and dystopia," Regina replies without missing a beat.

"_Daddy!"_ Roland protests, giggling. He looks up at Regina and shakes his head. "He's just being silly. We saw _Inside Out._"

"I may or not have bawled like a baby," Robin whispers to Regina. "Those Pixar films really know how to get to you."

"I've been wanting to see that!" Regina tells him. "I'm still trying to convince this one." She nudges Henry with her arm. "The last movie we saw was _Jurassic World_, which I liked, but—"

"I wanna see that!" Roland interrupts her loudly. "But Daddy says it's too scary."

"I said it _might_ be too scary."

"I'm not scared! Dinosaurs aren't scary, they're awesome."

"They're a little scary in this, Roland," Regina cautions, looking at Robin to back her up.

"How about this," Robin begins, kneeling down so he can look his son in the eye. "How about we rent the original _Jurassic Park_ to watch at home, and if you can handle that, then we'll go and see the other one."

Roland bites his lip before grinning. "Deal!"

"Glad we got that settled. So what brings the two of you here on this fine evening?" Robin asks, straightening up.

"We were in need of some ice cream after the budget meeting I had today," Regina explains. "And there's no better way to eat ice cream than walking along the waterfront."

"We had the same idea," Robin says, a bit unnecessarily, putting a hand on Roland's shoulder. "This is one of our favorite things to do in the summertime."

"Us too. It's so fun to see the different boats through the years. Especially because Henry has become a bit of a sailor himself lately."

Henry shrugs modestly. "Emma—my birth mom—anyway, her fiancée has a boat. He's taken me out on the water a few times when they come to visit. It's awesome. He knows _everything_ about sailing. I'm still just learning, really."

"Have you gotten your ice cream yet?" Regina asks. "I wanted to stop in a few of the other shops first, but I think Henry's had just about enough of window shopping for one night."

"We were just about to go in. Care to join us?"

She grins, and Robin's heart flutters in the way that he has come to associate with only her. "I thought you'd never ask. We'd love to."

Together, they make their way off of the boardwalk and back towards the street, through the crowds of people strolling or waiting to eat at one of the many waterfront restaurants. It's a perfect night, warm and sunny and just muggy enough to feel like summer. They spend the walk to the ice cream shop catching up, filling Regina and Henry in on Roland's graduation while Henry recounts the week of torture that was his week of final exams. He's out of school as well now, as of a few days ago, but Robin refrains from asking him if he's excited to start high school in the fall. He remembers the jitters that accompanied starting at a new school. No need to make him nervous when it's still only June and the first day of school is months away.

They reach the ice cream shop, the smell of chocolate wafting out from the screen door and into the street. It isn't air-conditioned inside, never has been, but somehow that just adds to the old-fashioned charm of it all. Robin holds the door open for them, and together they march inside. The air is thick with the sweet, rich smell of fudge—Robin is tempted to snag a free sample from the table on the counter—and the line is long, but appears to be moving quickly. They take their places at the back before it can get any longer.

"So I take it that meeting of yours went pretty badly, then?" Robin asks as the line inches forward. Roland is on his tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse of ice cream. "If it necessitated coming down here for ice cream, that is."

Regina pauses with a free sample of Chocolate English Walnut fudge halfway to her mouth. "Well, Henry and I have been meaning to do a night like this for a while, but with exams and everything we just kept putting it off. But tonight…" Regina makes a face, taking a bite of fudge. "The meeting was an absolute nightmare. They want to slash the arts budget _again._ There's even talk about cutting the drama program at the middle schools, and only reserving school plays for the high school. Which is ridiculous, of course, and now the music classes could be looking at cuts as well. Don't these people care about anything other than a bottom line? Don't they care about the education of our children? We can't just force-feed them science and math and forget to nurture them creatively…"

"Take it easy, Mom. Robin's not on their side," Henry cuts in quickly. He gives Robin a look. "This is what she was like on the entire drive down here. Just in case you were wondering."

"Well, it sounds like you have every right to be angry. That is ridiculous. But I'm sure if anyone can get them to see sense, it's you, Regina," he says as they creep closer to the counter. They're behind a family of tourists, and Robin has a feeling that their order will take a while.

Regina sighs. "Thanks," she says quietly. "I wish I could believe that. But sometimes I don't know. I just want to give these kids every opportunity they can get, you know? And it's like no one seems to understand that. I'm just one person. If they really want to go through with this…"

"You can do it," Robin cuts in quickly. "After all, remember what Roland said? You're the queen of the school district."

That makes her smile just as they finally make it to the counter to order. Henry asks for chocolate chip cookie dough, while Roland cannot resist the siren call of Superman ice cream. Robin, after a moment's deliberation, orders New Orleans Praline Pecan in a waffle cone. Regina asks for Rocky Road.

Robin hopes that she doesn't notice the way his breath catches when she orders. He hates moments like these, when something as innocent and meaningless as an ice cream order can send a wave of grief straight through to his heart. Regina doesn't know, can't possibly know that Rocky Road was Marian's favorite flavor—it's a common enough flavor to like, and he knows that. So why does it hurt so damn much every time even the slightest thing reminds him of her?

But then, as quickly as it appeared, the pang of grief is gone. Robin blinks in surprise. Usually, these feelings do go away with time, but he can't remember the last time he's gotten back to his old self so quickly before. Maybe Will was right about him moving on.

"Actually, hold that thought," Regina says suddenly. "Can I try a sample of the Blueberry Waffle Cone flavor? I just saw that one."

The girl behind the counter hands over a small spoon topped with purple ice cream, and Robin watches Regina's face as she tastes it. "Mmm, that's the one. I'll have a scoop of that, please. In a cup."

"Are you sure?" Robin asks, pointing to a nearby tub of ice cream in the huge freezer display. "Look at that one over there. 'Perfect Apple Pie'. I would have thought that would pique your interests more than blueberry."

Regina doesn't even glance at it. "Mine is better. Mine is _real_ pie."

"But is it as perfect as that ice cream?"

"I'd say it is."

"Don't even bother trying to argue with her," Henry stage-whispers to Robin. "She gets weird about her apple pie. Her lasagna too. Super defensive."

"That's because my lasagna is famous too. I wouldn't brag about it if I didn't have the proof to back it up."

"Famous lasagna? Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"

He swears he sees her wink. "Stick around long enough and I'm sure you'll get to taste it eventually."

* * *

They take their treats a few blocks down the road, to a playground that both Henry and Roland know and love. Robin and Regina sit on a bench and watch their boys play. Roland's lips are still stained blue and red and yellow from his ice cream, but Robin can't bring himself to interrupt their fun just yet. "Your son is quite something, you know," he remarks to Regina as they watch Roland go down the slide. "Not every kid his age would play with a five-year-old this long. I really appreciate it."

"He really likes Roland," Regina says immediately.

Robin smirks. "Well, I'd ask you what's not to like, but I'm afraid I'm more than a little biased."

Regina chuckles as she tosses her empty ice cream cup away. "No, really, Roland's a sweetheart. And Henry would never dream of bringing it up to me, but I know he's always been curious about what it would be like to have a younger sibling. It's almost like Roland's the little brother he never had."

Regina's words touch Robin more deeply than she could ever know. "Well, Roland adores Henry. These last few weeks, spending time with you two…it's been wonderful, Regina. I think it's been really good for both of us."

"Us too."

"So…so thank you for that. Having a friend like Henry seems like it was exactly what Roland needed, and as for me…"

Brown eyes look up into his, innocent and playful all at once. How does she do that?

"Yes?"

"I feel so lucky to have met you."

Somehow, without either of them noticing it, they've moved closer. Robin can smell the sweet blueberry on Regina's breath from her ice cream, and his gaze drops down to her lips before he can stop himself. He leans in closer, and so does she…

"Daddy, watch me!"

Roland's voice carries over across the crowded playground, and Regina and Robin jump apart like a pair of horny teenagers. If either Henry or Roland noticed the almost-kiss, neither of them mention it now. "Watch me, Daddy!" Roland is at the monkey bars, reaching out for the first rung, which he grabs easily. Robin moves to stand up as his son's feet dangle in the air, but Regina stops him, laying one hand gently on his arm.

"Just watch," she whispers, pointing to Henry, who is poised and ready to help Roland if he needs it. With Henry holding onto Roland's legs, Roland makes it across the monkey bars, a look of triumph on his face.

"I did it, Daddy!" he yells, running towards them with Henry following close behind.

_You sure did._

"That was awesome, Roland!" Regina exclaims. "Soon you'll be able to do it all by yourself."

"You really think so?"

"I _know_ so. You just have to practice."

"Hey Mom," Henry says suddenly, as if the thought has just occurred to him. "We still haven't had Robin and Roland over to our house yet. Remember, we promised we would?"

Never in his life has Robin been more grateful to a thirteen-year-old.

"Yeah!" Roland chimes in. "You said you guys had a pool!"

"We do, and I'm sure you guys could bring your suits if you came over. Mom, what do you think?"

Regina is quiet for a minute, seemingly mulling it over. When she finally turns back to Robin, though, her eyes are bright and playful. "What are you guys doing tomorrow?" she asks.


	8. Pool Party

_Just so you know, Roland is so excited about tomorrow I could barely get him to sleep._

_I accept full responsibility. My most humble apologies._

_Well, you'd better come up with a way to make it up to me._

_Will you accept lasagna as a peace offering? ;) _

Robin chuckles, rolling over so that he's lying on his back in the bed, holding his phone in front of his face as his thumbs tap out a reply to Regina. They've been texting on and off all night, with brief breaks allowing him to get Roland bathed and into bed. He's received a few texts from Will in that time too, interrogating him on what he's going to do for dinner at Regina's house tomorrow, but he's done his best to ignore them as politely as he can. He loves Will, he really does—there's not a single person on earth that he owes as much to as Will Scarlet—but hearing him give Robin advice about tomorrow is only going to make him more nervous than he already is. Besides, every minute spent texting Will is one not spent texting Regina.

_It's a start,_ he types back. The little ellipses appear on the screen, letting him know that Regina is replying, and he sighs happily. He truly is acting like a teenager now, but when he thinks about how happy he's been since meeting Regina, how much light she's brought not only into his life but into Roland's as well, he finds he couldn't care less about how silly some might find his actions.

_Good. Don't forget your swimsuits! ;)_

Shit. Does Robin even know where his swimsuit is right now? He lowers the phone for a moment, biting his lip as he tries to mentally catalogue the contents of his wardrobe. He's only taken Roland to the pool a few times since summer started, which means his swim trunks are either in the dresser, somewhere in the laundry room, or (God, he hopes this isn't the case) still wet and wadded up in the bottom of his beach bag. Does he still have that extra pair, that one he had to buy last year when he took Roland to the waterpark and forgot to pack a swimsuit for himself? That will work in a pinch if he can't find his other one…but does he really want Regina to see him in a cheap pair of waterpark swim trunks, probably not meant to last more than a few days in the water?

_Better those than not being able to swim at all because you forgot to wash your other pair_ he thinks quickly. _But at the same time…oh God, Marian, I can just _hear_ how you'd be laughing at me if you were here._

He's about to get up and launch a full-scale swimsuit search, despite the late hour, when his phone slips from his grasp. Robin swears softly as it lands painfully on his chin, sliding off onto the bed. His chin smarts a bit, and he rubs the pain away, reaching for his phone with his other hand. The light on the screen flickers out as the phone locks, and he spends a tense minute or so fumbling around for it in the dark. When he finally finds it and flicks it on again, his thumb hits a button by mistake, and his text conversation with Regina vanishes. A black screen replaced it, huge white letters staring up at him, seeming to mock him…_Calling Regina (mobile)._

"Shit," he whispered, louder now, praying he wouldn't accidentally wake up Roland in addition to calling Regina. "Shit, shit, shit…"

Frantically, he tries to end the call, but either his touch screen is acting up or his fingers won't obey him. Although the phone is not raised to his ear, he can hear it ringing, and for one panicked moment he considers throwing it away from him. His heart is pounding. He hears a click on the other line, then a pause, then her voice, unmistakable and quiet. "Hello?"

He swallows, his throat having gone dry. Should he answer? Should he tell her it was an accident, apologize profusely, and hang up before she can reconsider her invitation for tomorrow? Or should he…"

"Hello?" she asks again, her voice louder now. This is it—he's got to say something before she gets angry and hangs up, and he's left having to explain himself when they go to her house tomorrow. He takes a deep breath, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Regina, are you still there?"

"I'm here, Robin. Is everything okay? Is something wrong?" She sounds alert, despite the late hour, and he finds himself wondering if she was doing something, or if she's somehow just accustomed to treating every late-night call as if it were an emergency.

"No, no, nothing's wrong at all. Everything's fine. I'm sorry to call so late. I didn't mean to. I hit the wrong button, and…I'm really sorry. Apparently my phone has it out for both of us tonight."

He hears her take a breath on the other end of the line, and when she speaks again she sounds much more relaxed. "It's okay, you don't have to apologize. That's happened to me more times than I care to admit."

"I think I'm getting too old for this kind of technology."

She chuckles. "You'd better not be, because that means I am, and that is something I will not accept."

He laughs along with her, settling back against the pillows as he, too, allows himself to relax. "Although I suppose I should be thanking my phone, really," he says. "It's nice to hear your voice."

"Miss me already?" Regina asks. "You saw me not even three hours ago."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," she says softly, surprising him. "I think I do. It's nice to hear your voice, too."

"I think the boys had fun today."

"They always have fun when they're together. And, for the record, so do I."

"Me too."

They spend a few minutes chatting softly in the dark about tomorrow, about what should be brought and how to find the place and what the two families' plans are for the rest of the summer. Robin closes his eyes as he listens, a feeling of peace coming over him, a feeling that he can't remember experiencing since Marian died. It's been so long that he's almost forgotten how it feels to have someone you can feel this comfortable just talking with about nothing at all.

As they talk, though, something is on the tip of his tongue, something that he's been wanting to ask her for weeks—wanting to ask her since they met, if he's being perfectly honest with himself. It never seemed like the right time before, but now, lying there with her voice in his ear, sounding just as comfortable with him as he is with her, he thinks now might finally be the perfect opportunity.

_Now or never, Robin. Your move._

"I've been thinking," Robin says suddenly, wanting to ask the question before he loses his nerve. In a way, he supposes it was a good thing that he accidentally called her, or else he might have put off asking her once again. _Funny how life works like that sometimes._

"Dangerous pastime," Regina warns.

"I've been thinking…maybe it's time for the two of us to spend time together…without the company of our children."

There is a slight pause on the other line, and he hopes that he hasn't accidentally made things awkward between them.

"Like, a real date?" she asks finally.

"I've been told that's what adults do when they want to spend time together. Dinner without the addition of a kid's menu, that sort of thing."

"So, not what we've been doing so far," Regina says, playing along almost immediately.

"As charming as our two sons are, no. I'd like to spend some time with you on my own. If…if you'd like to."

There is another pause, and Robin tries not to hold his breath. It's only the sound of Regina's breathing on the other line that assures him that she hasn't hung up.

When she speaks again, he swears he can hear the smile in her voice. "I thought you'd never ask."

He blinks, smiling as well. "Sorry, is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes! What did you think it was?"

He chuckles, feeling a bit giddy. "I thought it might have been a yes, I just really, really didn't want to be wrong."

"Understandable. Just think how embarrassing that would be."

"Oh, I'd never live it down. Certainly couldn't show my face at your little pool party tomorrow."

"We can't have that."

"Good thing you said yes, then. Does Saturday night work for you?" It's a bit last-minute, but he's sure he can get Will to babysit if he bribes him with enough pizza and beer. If on the off-chance Will's busy, he's sure that Belle would be over the moon if he asked her to watch Roland for the night. It's not as if Will is going to pluck up the courage to ask Belle out between now and Saturday.

"This Saturday? Yeah, that works fine for me. Did you have a plan in mind?"

"Well, I did promise you dinner during my scientific explanation of what a date is."

"_So_ scientific."

"How about…dinner at The Mermaid at 7 on Saturday? Or if you have a place you'd rather go to, that's fine. We don't have to iron out all the details tonight. I'm seeing you tomorrow afternoon, after all."

"The Mermaid sounds great. Dinner on the waterfront, maybe a little music, a great guy…a girl could do a lot worse."

"You think I'm a great guy?" Robin can't help but ask.

"Well, I don't think I would have agreed to go out with you if I didn't like you." Her voice is soft, still teasing just a little, but he can hear her sincerity even over the phone. "You're an amazing person, Robin. I…I know I haven't known you for very long, but I know that much. You're funny, polite, interesting, a terrific father…who wouldn't think you're a great guy?"

He smiles, pulling at a loose thread on his quilt. "I'm sorry. It's been a while since I've done the dating thing. I'm afraid I might be woefully out of practice."

"That makes two of us, then. We can make fools of ourselves together."

He chuckles softly. "I guess that's comforting."

"But Robin? Out of practice or not, I really am looking forward to Saturday. And tomorrow, too."

"Me too," he whispers.

They talk for a few more minutes, until Regina finally suggests that the two of them get some sleep—they'll need it, she reminds him, if they're expecting to swim with the boys tomorrow. He reluctantly agrees, but their goodbyes take longer than usual. When he finally hangs up, he stares at his phone in his hand for a moment, part of him unable to comprehend what just happened. Slowly, he smiles.

He has a date with Regina Mills.

* * *

Regina's phone beeps softly at her as she plugs it in, her heart and stomach still pleasantly fluttering from her conversation with Robin. Her mind is going a mile a minute, making a list of things she has to do in preparation for tomorrow as well as mentally considering her wardrobe, trying to pick out what to wear on Saturday. Robin had said that he was out of practice in the dating game, and Regina is the same, if not worse, than he is. She can't even remember the last time she had a real date. Two years ago? More? She's just never had time, not between her job and trying to be the best mother to Henry that she can possibly be. She can't remember the last time she had met someone that she cared about enough to try to fit in with everything else in her life.

Until Robin.

She's about to turn off the light and go to bed when she hears a creak outside the door. For half a second she thinks that it's the cat, but a familiar little sigh outside the door proves otherwise. She chuckles, pulling back the covers and sitting down on the bed. "Henry, how long have you been out there?"

She almost hears him freeze with alarm, and has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Her son is many things, but subtle he is not. "I can hear you breathing out there. What are you doing up so late?"

Her bedroom door creaks open, and Henry stands there in his pajamas, looking sheepish. "My book was getting really good," he admits. "And before that I was trying to beat my game."

"And did you?"

Henry shrugs. "One more boss battle to go. I can maybe do it tomorrow before Robin and Roland come over."

She arches an eyebrow. "I thought that you were going to help me clean tomorrow."

He grins. "Before that." His smile falters a bit as she looks at him. "You're not mad I'm still up, are you?"

She shrugs back at him. "It's summer, I don't mind. I'm a bit more concerned that you seem to be eavesdropping on me, though. How much did you hear?"

"Nothing," Henry says innocently.

"Henry Daniel Mills."

A smug grin spreads over her son's face, and Regina rolls her eyes.

"Just so you know, I think Robin's a really _great guy,_" Henry says emphatically.

Regina groans. "Careful, mister. I know just where the embarrassing baby pictures are, and I will use them if necessary."

"Oh, I'm so scared." Regina playfully swats at him, and he dodges out of the way before perching next to her on the bed. "He really is a good guy, Mom. I'm really happy for you."

"Aren't most kids supposed to throw a fit or something when their parent starts dating someone new?"

"I'm not most kids."

"No, you're not. And I'm so, so thankful to have you." She puts her arm around Henry, pulling him close and giving him a quick kiss on the side of the head. He pretends to struggle out of her grasp for a minute—he's a teenager now, and has to at least keep up the appearance of being mildly apathetic—but he accepts the kiss and leans into her, looking up at Regina with a smile.

"You really like him, don't you?"

Slowly, she nods. "Yeah. I really think I do."

"Good. Because I think he really likes you, too."

"You think so?"

"Come on. He'd be crazy not to."

She kisses him again, ruffling his dark hair. "Thanks, Henry."

"Anytime. Good night, Mom." He kisses her on the cheek and gets up to leave, shuffling towards the door.

"Get some sleep, kiddo. We have a lot of cleaning to do tomorrow before they get here."

She can almost _hear_ him smirk as he closes the door softly behind him. "Yeah, Mom. Okay."

"I mean it!"

"Love you too!"

* * *

Regina's house is a bit of a drive away, along the lakeshore. It's a more affluent community than Robin is used to, huge houses with even bigger backyards capturing his and Roland's attention as he drives down the winding street. He assumed that Regina's house would be larger than his, but now he's wondering if Roland's offhand comment about her and Henry living in a castle hadn't been too far off.

"Are we almost there, Daddy?" Roland asks, bouncing in his car seat. Robin glances at him in the rearview mirror, catching sight of a gray Tshirt and Iron Man swim trunks. He smiles.

"Not too much longer now, Roland. It's a pretty long street."

"The houses are huge."

"Well, that's because we're by the lake. See it? Look out the window, you can see it sort of peeking out between the houses." He smiles as Roland presses his face up against the window, rewarded for his efforts by the sight of the sun glinting off the water. "I'm not sure how close their actual house will be to the lake, but that's okay. The water's still pretty cold this early in the year."

Roland nods sagely. "The pool is better."

They finally pull up to a huge white house, all imposing columns and impeccable landscaping. The lake beckons them from behind the home, and Robin can see a huge wooden staircase leading down from the hill that the house is on to the beach as he maneuvers into the long, winding driveway. He smiles as he recognizes the tree in the front yard, an apple tree if he ever saw one. "This must be the right place."

It's cooler here, as it always is by the lake, and huge beech and oak trees shade the house from the sun. It's just the sort of place that he pictured Regina living.

The ornate front door opens almost before Robin can even exit the car, and he smiles as Henry runs over to greet them. "Hey," the teen calls out, waving to Roland in the backseat as Robin quickly goes to unbuckle him. "Mom sent me out here to make sure you found the place okay. The street can be kinda confusing. She'll be out in just a minute."

"It's a long street, but we didn't have any problems." Robin sets Roland on the ground, grinning as he glances up and sees the tips of Henry's wet hair. "I see someone's been in the pool already today."

"Had to test it out, you know. The lake is still freezing, but the pool's super nice. Mom said we could go down to the beach later if you wanted, though. I don't know what time Roland goes to bed, but we can try to see the sunset."

"Sounds all right with me," Robin replies, fighting to make himself heard over Roland's voice as he enthusiastically greets his friend. "Roland! Before we forget, shouldn't we show Henry what we brought?"

"What did you bring?" Regina's voice cuts in, and Robin smiles as he turns to look at her.

She looks gorgeous, as always. Her suit is simple and black, cut in a style that reminds him almost of Old Hollywood, and she's wearing a colorful sarong tied with one of those knots that he can't even begin to figure out. She's in her element here, absolutely stunning in every way, and she looks as happy to see Robin as he is to see her.

"Daddy," Roland prompts, tugging on his shirt.

"Oh! Right. Just a second." From inside the car, he draws out a baking dish covered with foil, holding it out to Regina proudly. "It's no famous apple pie, but I've been told I can make a mean pineapple upside-down cake. And since you brought the dessert when we hosted…"

"Robin, you didn't have to do that," Regina protests, but he's already pressing the cake into her hands.

"I wanted to."

"Is this gonna be a habit of ours? One of us hosts, the other one brings dessert?"

"Well, I should hope that on Saturday, the person bringing dessert would be the restaurant."

"Hopefully."

"Daddy, I wanna swim!"

Regina and Robin share a smile at Roland's impatience. "Come on in. I'll show you around."

"Your house is beautiful," Robin remarks as they follow Regina inside.

"Technically, it's my father's house. He left it to me. But thank you." He doesn't miss the way the smile slides from her face for just a second, how her posture stiffens and her grip on the cake pan seems to harden. He wonders if there is more to her story, if her relationship with her parents was a troubled one. He can relate to that, at least a little. His parents hadn't approved of Marian, at least not at first, and they hated the fact that Robin had chosen life in America with her over staying in Britain. He hated to say that things had gotten easier with them after Marian died, but in a way it was true. He loved his parents, and he knew that he always would. But whenever they visited—trips to England twice a year ever since Roland was old enough to fly without the risk of the entire cabin hating him for bringing a baby on board—Robin could feel the distance between them, and he knew that he would never truly forgive them for not accepting Marian when they had the chance.

The house is just as beautiful on the inside, a mix of classic design and the sort of white woodwork that one would expect in a beach house. Everything is big—Robin thinks that he could probably fit comfortably in the fireplace if he set his mind to it, and the ceilings are impossibly high. His favorite part is the huge windows in the living room and kitchen, stretching almost up to the ceiling and letting in the most natural sunlight possible. From the living room he can see the pool, huge, in-ground, the sides and bottom covered with beautiful blue tile. He lets out a low whistle.

"Henry says it reminds him of the lagoon in _Peter Pan,_" Regina remarks from beside him. "All that blue."

"It's lovely. And you can't beat that lake view, either."

"Yeah, if only the lake would decide to warm up to somewhere over 55 degrees, we might actually be able to swim in it."

"Only fifty-five? Really?"

"It might have gone up to 58 today. Henry dared me to dip my toes into it a few nights ago. I almost emancipated him right then and there."

"Totally worth it," Henry pipes up, his voice carrying down from above their heads. The adults look up to see Robin and Roland on the second-floor landing, looking down into the living room. They hadn't even heard the boys leave. "You should have seen her face."

Robin let out a chuckle. "Be nice to your mother, Henry."

"What are you doing upstairs, anyway? I thought you and Roland wanted to swim."

"I just wanted to show him my room first. I saw Mal in there earlier."

"Mal?" Robin asks quizzically.

"Our cat. Maleficent," Regina clarifies.

"Henry says she's really pretty and black and fluffy, Daddy," Roland says excitedly.

"She can also be a bit of a diva, so don't be too offended if she doesn't want you petting her, Roland," Regina warns kindly. "She'll warm up to you by the end of the night, I promise."

The boys take off at a run down the hall, and Regina finishes showing Robin the main floor of the house, pausing just a moment to check on the lasagna that he can already smell in the oven. After only a few minutes, Henry and Roland run outside again, towels around their necks and headed towards the pool. "Be careful!" Robin and Regina call after them in almost perfect unison, but their words are lost as the glass door slides shut behind them.

"Well, if nothing else, I'm sure they'll both sleep like babies tonight," Regina says with a laugh and a shake of her head.

"One can only hope. Now, before I forget, is there somewhere that I can change?" He holds up the duffel bag he's brought with them, containing his swim trunks, sunscreen, and a few extra towels.

"Oh, of course. There's a bathroom right up the stairs, first door on the right."

"Thanks," he says with a grateful smile. "I'll just be a minute. Keep an eye on the boys?"

"You know I will."

He changes quickly, giving himself a quick once-over in the mirror before he leaves. As he makes his way down the stairs, he realizes that Regina has gone outside with the boys as promised. In her place, a large black cat sits at the bottom of the stairs, giving her front paw a vigorous wash. "Ah, you must be Maleficent," he tells the cat softly, crouching down and offering her his hand. She sniffs him experimentally, but quickly grows bored and returns to her bath. She doesn't flinch away when Robin gently scratches the top of her head, but he is not acknowledged again, either. "I see how it is," he teases, but Maleficent doesn't glance his way.

"Daddy, help!" comes a sudden cry from outside, and suddenly Robin's heart leaps into his throat.

"Daddy!"

He abandons the cat, and he's running, running outside towards his son. He can't get out of the house fast enough, and his feet almost slip on the perfectly polished hardwood. A thousand scenarios run through his mind, each worse than the last—a bee sting, a broken bone, an image of Roland or Henry having slipped on the side of the pool and cracked their head open. His only consolation is that Regina is out there too…

* * *

The moment Roland cried out for help, time seemed to slow down for Regina.

Everything had been going fine. Henry had gone to grab a couple of things from the shed, and Roland was happily hopping along in the shallow end, splashing and laughing and having the time of his life. But one misstep, and he had wandered too far towards the deep end, and the child had panicked, shouting for his father before swallowing a mouthful of water. Little feet scrabbled for purchase on the slick tile floor of the pool.

It only took Regina a minute to come back to life, to remember her lifeguard training from the summer she was sixteen. In the next instant she's in the water, grabbing Roland and pulling him to her and to safety. He's crying and spluttering, coughing up water as it runs down his nose and his chin, but she's got him, and he is safe.

"It's okay, Roland," she whispers into his hair, now wet and clinging to his face. He is shaking, and tears streak down his cheeks. His little arms and legs are wrapped so tightly around her waist that she's not even sure she can untangle them while they're both in the water. Regina doesn't mind. She adjusts her grip and holds him tighter, rubbing his back as he trembles in her arms. "It's okay. You just got scared. I was scared too, but you know what? You're fine. Everything's okay."

"Roland!" Robin shouts, and she turns to see him barreling down the path towards them. His eyes are frantic, but he relaxes just a little when she sees Regina holding Roland. "What happened?" he demands, his voice thick with worry.

Regina wades over to the side of the pool, and Robin kneels down in front of them. "He wandered a little too close to the deep end," she said soothingly, still petting Roland's hair. "He just got a little scared, that's all. He's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Roland…" With barely disguised tears in his eyes and his voice, he reaches for his son as Regina carefully passes him over. Roland disentangles himself and clings to his father instead, soaking Robin's Tshirt and reminding Regina of a soaking wet spider monkey. If her heart wasn't still pounding, she might have laughed. "What happened? Why didn't you do what you've been learning in swim lessons? What happened to blowing bubbles? What happened?"

"I think it happened too quickly for him to even think of that." Henry has joined them now, an inner tube and a pool noodle under each arm, staring at the scene in front of him. "He just panicked. But he's okay now. Right, Roland?"

He sniffles and turns to look at her, nodding slowly.

"You want to sit on the edge for a while, or do you want to get back in? Henry has a bunch of things to float on that he got out, or I can try to find a pair of his old water wings. It won't happen again, I promise. Do you trust me?"

"Uh huh."

"I couldn't quite hear you, Roland," she presses on. "Do you trust me?"

"Yeah!" The smile is beginning to return to Roland's face, and she thinks the worst of his fright is behind him.

"But Roland, you have to be more careful, do you understand?" Robin gently pushes his son away so that he can look into his eyes, kneeling in front of him on the concrete. "Promise me you'll be careful. You scared me, Roland. I never want to feel that way again, do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Robin hugs his son to him once again, almost frantically, and Regina takes a step back, her arms treading water softly as she stands in the shallows. It is a private moment, one that she doesn't want to interrupt, not while standing there soaking wet. The top of her tankini has ridden up just a little, and she quickly tugs it down, hiding the ridge of the scar on her abdomen and hoping that Robin hasn't noticed it.

"Henry," she says softly, and her son looks up. "Why don't you go see if we can find those floaties for Roland."

"I just saw them in the shed. Come on, Roland."

"No running!" Regina reminds them.

Robin's entire form seems to sag with relief as soon as they're gone, and he walks a few paces away from her. She bobs along to keep up with him as he sits down at the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. The water is up to her chest now, and a little colder than Regina likes it, but she knows she''ll get used to it eventually. Plus, now she can look into Robin's eyes without having to crane her neck.

"That was…thank you, Regina."

"You would have done the same thing if it was Henry."

"You're amazing, Regina Mills."

"Amazing? No. Very, very wet? Yes."

He smirks, and she finds her face growing warm. "Well, it is a pool party. We would have gotten you into the water one way or another."

"Is that so?" Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the boys creeping back from the shed. On each of Roland's upper arms is a bright blue water wing, and Regina tries to hide her smile. Henry catches her eye and puts a finger to his lips, and she nods imperceptibly.

"Oh, yes. I can be very persuasive when I want to be. And, if that doesn't work, very sneaky."

"You don't say."

"Of course. As a matter of fact—"

"Get him!" Henry calls out, and he and Roland attack. Both of them push Robin with all their might, and the result is a fall into the water that is both spectacular and probably more than a little theatrical. Regina shrieks as water splashes into her eyes. Two more splashes follow as both boys join them in the water just as Robin comes up for air.

"We got you!" Roland crows, paddling happily. Robin shakes water from his eyes, and Regina laughs at the sight of him. He's still in his Tshirt, now wet and clinging to him like a second skin, and as she watches he yanks it over his head and tosses it back onto the side of the pool.

"We can throw that in the dryer before you leave," she assures him.

"Don't even worry about it. I packed an extra just in case. That was a good sneak attack, boys. You got me good."

She's almost sure that he knew they were planning that, but she just smirks, not wanting to give him away.

"But you know what I've just now noticed, men?"

"What?"

"Of the four of us, Regina is the only one who doesn't have wet hair yet."

"Mom never dunks her head. Or almost never. Good luck trying to get her under."

His eyebrow arches upward. "Is that a challenge?" he asks, advancing on her.

"Oh no. Don't. Don't you dare. Robin. Robin!"

There is a shriek, followed by a splash, and Regina swears that she's going to get him back for this.

* * *

It's a perfect night. They spend hours in the pool, emerging only when dinner is ready and they all resemble prunes more than they do people. The food is delicious, the lasagna to-die-for as promised (he tries to wheedle Regina into giving him the recipe, but the only secret she is willing to divulge is red pepper flakes), and afterwards Regina fires up the grill and they make s'mores. Henry introduces the Locksley men to the idea of Reeses' Peanut Butter Cups on their s'mores instead of Hershey's squares, and Robin announces his life forever changed. They walk to the beach to watch the sunset as promised, sitting on towels and watching the waves roll in. Regina leans against Robin and he thinks back to the park the day before, the kiss that could have been before it was interrupted by their children. Saturday he swears that if he gets another chance, he won't let it slip through his fingers this time.

By the time they walk back up to the house, Roland is dozing off in his father's arms. He remains asleep as they say goodbye, not even stirring with Robin buckles him into his carseat. "See, I told you that we'd tire them out," he whispers to Regina as he closes the car door softly.

"I'm sure that Henry will be out like a light soon, too. I always forget how much swimming can tire you out."

"Well, I'm sure Roland will be upset that he fell asleep through the goodbyes, but I really should be getting him home. Thanks for another amazing night, Regina."

"Thanks for coming over. Henry and I had a lot of fun. And I'm…I'm really looking forward to Saturday."

"So am I."

"But just so you know, I rarely kiss on the first date."

"Is that a challenge?"

"What is it with you and challenges?" she wonders.

"I'm a glutton for punishment, or at least it seems I am wherever you are concerned. Plus, some people would argue that what we've been doing for the past few weeks constitutes dating anyway."

"We'll see." Even in the dark, he can see the fire in her eyes, and he loves it. What the hell has this woman done to him?

"See you Saturday, then?"

"Saturday. Good night,Robin."

"Good night, Regina."

The smile stays on his face the entire drive home.


	9. First Date Jitters

Shit.

"Henry!" Regina calls out, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes in frustration. "Henry, can you go and write down 'nail polish remover' on the grocery list for me please?"

The only response from her son is the clanking of swords and vaguely medieval music from whatever video game has captured his fancy today. "Henry!"

No answer. She sighs irritably, reaching for the nearly-empty bottle of nail polish remover and turning it upside down, desperate to get the last few drops out onto the tissue in her hand. Her nails are a smeared mess of red, half of them with the polish beginning to chip off and the other half having gotten a dose of what little remover she had to work with. The result is that her toes, which before had looked at least halfway acceptable for going out (was he even really going to notice her feet, anyway?) now resemble a Jackson Pollack done by a six-year-old running out of paint. The new bottle of deep purple nail polish that she'd purchased for the occasion—a perfect match to her dress, she had made sure of that—stands on the counter, waiting to be used, but at this point Regina isn't sure if it's going to be possible.

"Henry!" she called again, quickly losing her temper.

"Nail polish, got it!" he yelled back, sounding distracted.

"Nail polish _remover."_

"Same thing."

"No it's not…" Regina mumbles, trying to wipe more red polish off her nails. She curses under her breath as she scrubs frantically, wondering how much of the red she'll have to take off before she covers the rest up with the purple. At this point, she figures it might be a lost cause—the bottle is nearly empty now, but at the same time, she can't go out looking like this. Her feet look ridiculous.

"He's never even going to look at your feet anyway!" Henry hollers up to her from the living room, reading her mind.

"That doesn't matter. It's the entire look that matters. And _I'll_ know, Henry. How am I supposed to enjoy my date if all I can think about is that my toenails look like I let Roland paint them?"

She hears him pause the game. "Is that kind of thing really what girls think about?" He sounds incredulous.

"You'd be surprised." She scrubs at her big toe, wincing a bit at the pressure on her feet. Maybe that six-mile run this morning wasn't a great idea after all.

"Are you even packed yet, Henry?" she calls suddenly, looking up. "They're going to be here any minute!"

"Please. You know Emma's always late."

When she'd first broached the subject of this date with her son, Henry had insisted on staying home alone. He'd done it a few times before, but never at night, and Regina was reluctant to let him, especially when the restaurant was so far away from their house. He'd only relented when she'd called Emma and asked if she would be okay with Henry spending the night at her place. Emma and her fiancée, Killian Jones, had lived in Chicago for years, but they now lived on lakefront property about 45 minutes north of Henry and Regina. It was that move, almost three years ago now, that had enabled Henry to track down his birth mother in the first place. Regina's not too thrilled about the fact that Henry will be spending the night away from home, but at least she knows with Emma and Killian he'll be safe and have fun. Plus—and she almost hates herself for even thinking of this—it might be nice to have an empty house just in case things do go well with Robin.

She's still not planning on breaking her first date rule. But she hasn't planned a lot of things that have happened since Robin and Roland came into their lives.

"I still don't hear any packing!" she calls to her son, who finally pauses the game. She can hear him moving around downstairs as she finally gives up on her red toes, reaching for the new bottle of nail polish instead. Maybe she can still minimize the damage.

Something brushes up against her leg, and she looks up into the yellow eyes of her cat. Maleficent settles down next to her, washing a paw, her bushy tail weaving back and forth on the bathroom floor. She gives Regina a baleful look.

"What's that for? I already fed you tonight."

Maleficent meows at her, flicking an ear in her direction.

"You don't think I can do it? It's a date. I can handle one date. Even if it is with a man who is probably more attractive than should be legal…" She shakes the bottle to get the color evenly mixed and opens it carefully, painting a thin coat of purple on her left big toe.

"It's going to be fine. It's going to be awesome. It's…"

She doesn't get to finish her sentence. Instead, she watches in horror as Maleficent stretches out a black paw to knock the open bottle of nail polish over onto the ground.

"Maleficent!" Immediately the cat is on the move, looking far too pleased with herself as deep purple liquid oozes out of the bottle and soaks the tiles of the bathroom floor. By the time Regina has righted the bottle again, the cat is gone, no doubt to gloat over her magnificent prank on her owner. Regina has always suspected that that cat likes Henry far more than she likes her.

"Damn it," Regina moans, reaching for a few tissues to mop up the mess. She continues to mutter under her breath, refusing to give into her impulse to check the time and see how late she is, half of her wondering if the better plan isn't just to call up Robin and tell him something has come up and can they please reschedule this for next week?

She sits back on her heels and sighs, a mess of purple still before her. Brown eyes flicker upwards to the ceiling for just a moment. "Daniel, what the hell am I doing?"

There is no answer, of course, and Regina sighs again. From the doorway she hears a rustling, and her back stiffens. "Maleficent, if you so much as set one foot in this bathroom again I am going to shut you up in Henry's room."

"Yeah, not Maleficent. Although I guess I should be flattered that you think I'm sneaky enough to be your cat," a new voice says from the doorway.

Regina looks up to see a now-familiar face. Emma Swan leans in the doorway, dressed in cutoff denim shorts and an oversized Coast Guard Tshirt she no doubt stole from her fiancee's closet. Her feet were bare, and sparkly turquoise nail polish glittered on her toes. She shoots Regina a little smile. "Henry told me you might need a little help."

Regina sighs. "Hi, Emma. I didn't hear you come in. Where's Killian?"

"Downstairs listening to Henry explain to him all the finer points of _Dragon's Revenge_ or whatever that game is called. He told me you might be having some issues. Need some help with that nail polish? I'm no Maleficent—"she flashes Regina a grin—"but I've been told I have a fairly steady hand."

"I'm fine," Regina says with a sigh, plastering on a smile as she looks up at Emma. The two of them haven't always seen eye to eye—they clashed tremendously in the first few months they knew each other—but through Henry they have grown closer, and Regina has come to see the younger woman as an ally and a friend in the last few years.

Doesn't mean she wants to resort to Emma helping her get ready for her date, though.

"Besides, I think they're a lost cause anyway. I ran out of remover before I could get all the red off. And then I lost a lot of the purple because my cat is an asshole."

"All the best cats are, so I'm told."

Regina groans again. "This is a disaster." Maybe it wasn't too late to pick out a pair of closed-toed shoes to go with her dress.

Emma studies her, her eyes flickering from Regina's toes to the bottle of purple nail polish on the floor. "I think it's dark enough that it'll cover up all the red," she says finally. "Want me to try?"

"Really, you don't have to," Regina says quickly.

But Emma is already sitting down cross-legged across from Regina, reaching for the bottle of nail polish. She taps her knee and gives Regina an expectant look. "Foot. Come on." She gestures with her hand, making a "give me" gesture as Regina rolls her eyes and reluctantly surrenders her foot. She wonders what she must look like right now, sitting in her purple halter dress on the bathroom floor, all made up and nowhere to go yet, fighting a losing battle with a four-dollar bottle of nail polish.

"If anyone asks—"

"I was never here except to pick up Henry. Got it." Emma stares at Regina's foot, concentrating hard as she paints an even stripe of purple to cover what's left of the red.

"Thanks again for agreeing to watch him."

"Not at all. I'm happy to do it. You know I love that kid. Plus, it's good to get away from the wedding plans for a couple of hours."

"How's that coming? You've got about a month left, right?"

"Yeah. It's going fine, but even a small wedding can be stressful. Most days I think both of us would be happy with just going down to city hall and getting it over with there."

"You'd better not. Henry's over the moon excited about going to this wedding."

"I know. And if I'm being honest with myself, I'm excited too. I just wish we could skip all the stressful crap and get to the fun."

"Well, it'll be over before you know it." She realizes how callous that sounds and looks away. "The stressful parts, I mean."

"Yeah."

They fall silent for a moment, the only sound the faint _click_ of the brush against the bottle when Emma goes to get more polish. "So," she says finally, peeking up at Regina as she finishes one foot and reaches for the other, "while I've got you trapped here…"

"What is it?" Regina asks warily.

"Henry said you were a little nervous for tonight. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine. I'm great. I'm peachy." She immediately makes a face. _Peachy? Grow up, Regina._

"Peachy," Emma repeats skeptically.

Her shoulders slump. "I'm a mess. I've thought about canceling three times."

"But you haven't," Emma points out. "That's got to be a good sign, right?"

"If you say so." Regina isn't convinced. "It's just…I want to go on this date. I really really do. But I'm terrified I'm going to screw it up because I haven't been on a date in so long that I've basically forgotten how one is supposed to go. And that means I'm putting myself into overdrive trying to make everything perfect…" She sighs again. "Sorry. I swear to God I'm usually not this much of a control freak."

Emma, to her credit, does not question this statement. "Tell me something, then. Were you this nervous for the last date you went on?"

Regina bites her lip, trying to think back. It had been over a year ago, maybe two. It had been with a fellow school administrator, but from another district, someone she'd met at an academic conference. There had been snow on the ground that night, and she'd slipped on some ice in the parking lot, sending her body tumbling into Jefferson's arms. Under other circumstances, it might have been romantic—she fights back a daydream that threatens to invade her brain with visions of her slipping and falling into _Robin's _arms instead—but it had been mortifying for the both of them, and the date had gone downhill from there. Before the end of the dinner, they had decided to call it quits—the chemistry wasn't there, and it was obvious that nothing was going to come of it. Regina hadn't seen him since, aside from a few awkward run-ins at various events from time to time. "No," she says finally, shaking her head. "Not at all."

"So what does that tell you?"

"That I'm pathetic and this is what happens when you let full calendar years go by between dates?"

"That you care about Robin enough to be nervous. And that's a good thing, Regina, believe me. Henry tells me you really like this guy."

A faint smile crosses Regina's face as Emma puts the top back on the nail polish, sitting back to let her work dry. "Yeah. That's the scary part. I really, really do." _We almost kissed the other day. And I've spent far too much time since then imagining what would have happened if we did._

"Scary in this case can be a good thing. Look, Regina, I know how hard it is to try to let someone in, especially when it seems like the only person standing in the way of your own happiness is you."

"I'm not sure whether I've just been insulted or not."

"All I mean is, you and I are a lot alike when it comes to these things, I think. But if you like Robin, if you really like him, then you should go for it. Don't hold yourself back. Trust your instincts, but listen to your heart too, as corny as that sounds. When I met Killian, I—"

"Just knew?" Regina asks softly.

Emma considers that a moment. "Knew I didn't want to screw it up, yeah. The real knowing, the knowing that he was the right guy for me, that came later. But I had to trust myself to hold onto the relationship long enough to get to that point." She's tapping at Regina's toes now, testing to see if the nail polish is dry enough for a second coat. "Sorry. I know I suck at this kind of advice."

"You're doing fine."

"My point is, Regina, that you shouldn't let something this good slip through your fingers just because you're nervous. You'll always regret it if you do. It can be scary letting yourself follow your heart, but it's worth it. You just have to let yourself take that leap of faith."

"Wow."

"What?"

"I knew it was a mistake introducing you to Mary Margaret. All her optimism is contagious."

"Please. That was nothing compared to one of her speeches. I'm just a novice in the whole true love thing. But I am rooting for you, Regina. For what it's worth."

"Thanks, Emma," Regina tells her quietly, smiling when green eyes meet her own. "I really mean it."

"I think these are dry. You should be good to go now." Emma grins cheekily at her as Regina reclaims her feet. "Do I get any credit if this does work out? I mean, I did save you from a toenail emergency. That's got to count for something."

"I'll make sure someone mentions you in the wedding toast," Regina says without missing a beat. Her words echo in her head as she stands up, her eyes widening as she takes in exactly what she just said, and Emma bursts out laughing before she can help it.

"Don't even," Regina warns, giving herself one last once-over in the mirror, checking her lipstick and fluffing up her hair.

"You look gorgeous, Regina. He'd be crazy not to fall for you."

An image of Robin's face, of his smile and those infuriating dimples, fills Regina's mind. "Maybe I'm hoping he already has."

Emma has no response to that, and Regina allows herself another second before she shakes off the image. "Come on. Let's go downstairs so I can say goodbye to my son before you whisk him away for the night."

* * *

"Good call on the blue. Brings out your eyes," is the first thing Will says to Robin when he opens the door at six. Robin chuckles, stepping back to let his faithful babysitter inside.

"I'm just considering myself lucky it was clean," he tells Will truthfully as he comes in. Roland, busily coloring at the kitchen table, quickly shouts out a hello to his Uncle Will before returning to his work. Robin paces back and forth a little bit, resisting the urge to check his hair again in the mirror by the front door. His palms are starting to sweat, which means the rest of him may soon follow. Shit—he remembered to put deodorant on, right?

"So dinner is at seven," he tells Will, resisting the urge to pace. "It's not too far away—more of a drive for Regina than it is for me—but it's still by the lake so if something happens I won't be able to get here right away. I should be done by ten, maybe eleven at the latest if things go really well or we have dessert, so I'll be done by—wait, I already said that, didn't I?"

"All right, what's wrong?" Will asks immediately. "This is way more than date night nerves. What's on your mind, Robin?"

Robin sighs. "Roland and I had a chance encounter at the library today. That woman from the school picnic that I told you about. And it's been bothering me all day."

"The redheaded chick? What was her name again? Zazu?"

"Not even close. Zelena. You've been watching _The Lion King_ with Roland one too many times."

"Tomato, tomahto. What kind of a name is Zelena anyway?"

"Hers, apparently."

"Whatever. Is she stalking you or something?"

Robin is fairly certain if he rolls his eyes again, they're going to fall right out of his head. "It's a public library, Will. I'm pretty sure that Zelena's allowed to take her daughter there if she wants."

Will only shrugs in response. "So what happened?"

Robin sighs, thinking back to the ambush as Roland stood on his tiptoes to check out the turtles in the aquarium that was one of the highlights of the library's children's section. He thinks of Zelena's voice suddenly cutting through the quiet of the library, of meeting her daughter, Nessa, all in pink and frills and looking about as happy as Robin was to be there, of chatting of mundane things and trying to make his escape with or without Roland's books."Nothing, actually. We chatted for a bit. I met her daughter. Roland almost accidentally invited her to his birthday party in August, but I stopped him just in time."

"So what's the problem?"

"I don't know. I've just been jumpy all day because of it. Like I feel guilty or something."

"Why the hell—" Robin shot him an icy glare, and Will lowered his voice—"would you feel guilty? All you did was escape this Zara person—"

"_Zelena."_

"Doesn't matter. You handled the situation admirably, I'm sure. Now you just need to forget about it. Focus on Regina, not on anything else. That's what tonight is supposed to be about, right?"

Robin nods, already feeling some of his anxiety start to melt away. "You're right. I'm being stupid."

"You usually are, but I've learned to deal with it," Will says with a grin, and Robin shoves him gently.

"All right. Pizza's on the way, should be here in about twenty minutes. Really quick, some ground rules before I go. Try to read him a story before bed—we nearly cleared out the library today, and I don't want that to go to waste. No fireworks—don't look at me like that, I know how you get this time of year and you know they're only legal during the weekend of the 4th—no letting him stay up too late, no scary movies no matter how much he begs, no sugar after 7 unless you want him up half the night, and I swear to God if I get my cable bill next month and see the words _pay-per-view_ or _Cinemax_ anywhere-"

"That was one time!" Will protests loudly. "Anyway, you don't have to worry. It's been a long day. I'll probably conk out watching _Friends_ reruns not long after he goes to bed."

Robin stares at him a moment. "Wow."

"What? Basking in the glow of what a good, selfless friend I am for watching your child?"

"No, just thinking that if your idea of a fun Saturday night is falling asleep in front of the telly by 9, then maybe you need a date even more than I do."

"You're hilarious," Will deadpans.

"I try to be."

"Well, don't. Doesn't suit you. Besides, we've got more important things to talk about."

"Will, if I don't leave soon I might be late."

"What are you going to do about your wedding ring?"

The statement takes him so entirely by surprise that he almost trips over his own two feet, staring at Will with wide eyes. Slowly, his gaze drifts down to his left hand, to the piece of jewelry that has become so much a part of his life that he hardly notices it anymore. It's a part of him, and Regina has never seen him without it. It has never occurred to him that she might want to.

"What about it?" he asks nonchalantly.

"Well, no offense, but you can't honestly be thinking of wearing it tonight, are you?"

"I really hadn't thought about it, Will."

"Well, think about it now. It might be time to take it off to do something other than washing the dishes, don't you think?"

Robin looks up and fixes Will with his best icy glare. "I've taken it off for other things before. You know that." He's taken the ring off before in the past, usually for dates, but it had inevitably always come back on when the date didn't go well or things didn't work out. Now, though, he finds himself wondering if Will might be right once again. Regina hasn't mentioned it, but now that he's taken the time to consider it, it makes sense.

"Well, if you've taken it off before, then how is taking it off tonight any different?"

"I just…I want to be sure."

"Robin, this is the first time I've seen you act this way about a woman since Marian. How much more sure can you possibly be? Sometimes, mate, I think you just have to take a leap of faith."

"No more Hallmark movies for you," Robin muses, but his gaze has fallen to his ring finger again. The fingers of his other hand run over the gold band, warm from the heat of his body, a little tarnished maybe over the years but still looking more or less the same as when Marian slipped it onto his finger six and a half years ago. Slowly, he slips it from its spot on his finger but doesn't take it off completely, studying the slight indentation in his skin, the tanline that has formed around the ring after years of wear in the sun. He can feel Will watching him as he runs his hand over the thin strip of naked skin there. He's about to slide the ring off entirely when a pang of fear seizes him, or maybe it's guilt, and before he knows it the ring is slid back into place again. Will shakes his head in disappointment.

"What happens if the waitress sees it and then notices Regina isn't wearing a ring? What happens then?"

"Er…nothing? Because no sane person would ever notice that, much less point it out?" Will just stares at him, and Robin rolls his eyes. "I'll take it off before I get to the restaurant if it makes you feel any better. But it's weird being without it. It's like walking around knowing I forgot my wallet or something."

"Just promise you'll consider it, okay? I'm only looking out for you."

"As scary as that may be, I know. Don't worry. I know what I'm doing." _It's just not as easy to take that leap as you seem to think it is, no matter how much I like Regina._ "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd better say goodbye to my son."

Will follows him into the kitchen, leaning against the countertop as he watches the scene before him After a moment, he turns and begins to rummage through the refrigerator. Robin hears a faint _pop_ as a can of soda is opened, but he ignores it.

"What are you drawing here, Roland?" Robin asks, sitting down at the table next to his son. Roland has drawn four stick figures, two tall ones and two smaller ones. One of the tall ones is purple, the other green, and the smaller ones are blue and yellow respectively. The purple one has impossibly long eyelashes (at least, that's what he thinks they are—they could also be spikes of some kind, he supposes, or antennae) and is holding hands with the green one.

"That's us!" Roland crows. "See, Daddy, there's me—" he points to the yellow stick figure—"and that's you—" The green—"and that's Henry and that's Regina. See? We're a big happy family."

Robin suddenly found it hard to breathe, a lump forming in his throat. "Is that so?"

"Yeah! We're at Regina's house. See, behind us? That's the pool. And I need to draw Maleficent too." Roland picked up a black crayon and bent to his task.

"We certainly do look happy. All those bright big smiles."

"Because being with Regina and Henry makes us happy, Daddy."

"It certainly does. What's that, Roland?" Robin asked suddenly, noting another smiling face in Roland's drawing. It was just a circle, really, a head with no body in the upper right-hand corner of the page, smiling down at the scene below. "Is that the sun?"

Roland giggled. "No, Daddy. That's Mommy."

Robin's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"That's Mommy up in Heaven. You always say she's up there looking down on us, right?"

"R-right."

"Well, that's her looking down on us with Regina and Henry. See?"

Robin sees. He swallows hard, his vision going slightly blurry. "And…is your mommy happy with what she sees?"

"Yeah. She likes Regina because she makes you happy. You're not sad anymore now that you met her. You smile a lot more now. Mommy's really happy about that. Mommy doesn't want you to be sad anymore."

Robin's eyes quickly blur with tears, but thankfully Roland doesn't notice. "So Mommy isn't…isn't upset that we're spending time with Regina?"

"No, Daddy. She's really really glad."

"Then I'm glad to hear that, Roland," Robin says softly. He can feel Will's eyes on them, knows that his friend is watching from his spot at the sink, but he hardly notices him as he gathers his son into his arms, hugging him so tightly and unexpectedly that Roland squeaks a little in surprise.

"You really like my drawing, Daddy?"

Robin pulls away and runs his fingers through his son's hair, so much like his mother's, pulling it back from his face and kissing his forehead. "I _love_ it," he says sincerely. "When I get back from my dinner with Regina, I might even hang it on the refrigerator."

"I wish I could come with you," Roland says quietly.

Robin smiles, feeling that all too familiar tug on his heartstrings. "Maybe next time, little man. Tonight I want to take some time to get to know Regina, just the two of us."

"Okay." Roland, clearly thinking the conversation is over, reaches for his crayon again to continue his work. Robin watches him color for only a few seconds before his hand slows again. "Daddy, are you and Regina gonna get married?"

Behind them, Robin hears Will splutter, clearly having chosen the wrong moment to take a sip of his drink. Robin is more composed, having mentally prepared himself for a question like this coming out of his son's mouth sooner or later. "Why do you ask?"

"Because Katie's mommy and daddy aren't married anymore, and her mommy met a man and they got married over spring break. Katie got to be the flower girl, and she says her mommy is really happy now. And a few other kids in my class have step-parents too. Like Snow White, only they're not mean. Some of them even have stepbrothers or stepsisters."

"Well, Roland, I think it's a little too early to tell if Regina and I are going to get married. We haven't even really been on an official date yet. Let's see how tonight goes and go from there, how does that sound?"

"Okay."

"Would you…" he bites his lip, treading carefully now. "Would you be happy if I married Regina?"

It's crazy, he knows, to even entertain these notions of his five-year-old. But it is a question he feels he needs the answer to all the same.

"Of course I would, Daddy. Henry would be an awesome stepbrother, and I love Regina. I think she'd make a really good mommy. And you smile a lot when you're around her, and she makes you laugh, and I can tell she makes you happy too."

"And how can you tell that?"

"Because part of her seemed sad, when we first met her, and she doesn't seem that way anymore."

Robin frowns slightly. "What do you mean?"

Roland shrugs. "I don't know. I just think she might have lost someone too, like we did. Like maybe she loved someone who's not around anymore."

His son has always been perceptive, easily reading the emotions of people around him. Maybe he's just wanting to find a connection between Robin and Regina that isn't really there, or maybe there really is something to Roland's hunch that Regina, too, has experienced grief and loss in her life. Robin thinks back to Regina's face the other day when she mentioned that the house had been left to her by her father, and he wonders.

"Your kid's a bloody genius, he is," Will murmurs, effectively tearing Robin out of his thoughts.

Roland giggles. "Uncle Will said a bad word."

"Thank you," Robin says dryly. "Any other choice phrases you want to teach my five-year-old? Certain words that rhyme with _duck,_ perhaps?"

"He's seen me watch a baseball game, I'm pretty sure that particular ship has sailed. Besides, _bloody_ isn't even offensive in America." Will turns and glances at the clock above the stove. "You'd better get going if you want to make it."

"You're right. You two have fun tonight, yeah? I want to hear all about it when you get up. Come on and give me a hug, Roland."

Roland sets down the crayons and turns in his chair, wrapping his arms around Robin's neck. "Bye, Daddy! Have fun!"

"I will."

"Tell Regina I said hi!"

"I will, I promise."

"Have a good time, Robin. Don't worry so much. And think about what I said, okay?"

He does, walking slowly to the car as he thinks of Will's words, of the sight of his finger without his wedding band of it, of Roland's drawing and his innocent plans for the future. He thinks of that face in the sky in Roland's picture, the happy face smiling down on them, and Robin finds himself smiling too.

_Well, if Roland thinks that you think it's all right, then it must be, Marian._

He takes his ring off and slips it into his pocket.

* * *

There's traffic on the way to the restaurant—summer is living up to its reputation of being road-construction season quite well this year—but Robin manages to make it to the door of The Mermaid just as Regina comes walking up the boardwalk. She' s radiant, stunning really, in a deep purple dress and a smile that lights up her face as soon as she sees him. "Impeccable timing," she calls out as she walks up to the door of the restaurant. "I was worried I was going to be early."

"I pride myself on being on time, even in traffic. The day we met notwithstanding," he adds quickly with a grin. His joking manner fades after a moment, leaving only a soft smile on his face as he looks at her. "You look beautiful," he murmurs.

"Thank you." Her voice is soft, pleased, and is that the faintest hint of a blush he sees coming over her cheeks? This woman will never cease to surprise him.

"You clean up pretty good yourself."

"I had the day off," Robin explains. "So that helps. I took Roland to the library instead of dealing with customers and inventory and collapsing tents."

"Collapsing tents?"

"The trials of a wilderness store. And trust me, collapsing tents is a walk in the park compared to the day that the kayak display fell down."

She chuckles. "I'm picturing a row of kayaks just falling like dominos."

"More or less accurate. Throw in a few stand-up paddleboards as well and you've basically got the picture."

They stand there in the doorway, laughing together, until they both seem to realize that they are still standing outside the restaurant. Now it's Robin's turn to blush as he reaches for the door, holding it open for her to step inside. "We should probably go in. After you."

"Funny _and_ a gentleman. And who says chivalry is dead?" Regina muses. They file in and tell the host that they've arrived—Robin thanks his lucky stars that he called ahead and made a reservation, because the place is packed. They are shown to their table, outside on the balcony and overlooking the water, just like Robin requested. Almost immediately a server comes to take their drink orders. Robin chooses a local microbrew. Regina, after a careful consideration of the wine list, orders a glass of malbec.

"My old standby," she explains as the server leaves to get their drinks. "Sometimes I branch out, but not often. I guess I'm just a creature of habit."

"Nothing wrong with that. I think Roland would subsist solely on Kraft macaroni and cheese and watermelon if I let him."

"And hot dogs," Regina adds in.

"You know my son very well already. I'm impressed."

"Well, I can't imagine anyone being a bigger hit with Henry than you, so you deserve some kudos of your own. He's loving all the time we've been spending together."

"I'm glad to hear that, actually. Not that I was nervous, but…"

"But what?" she asks. The waitress returns with their drinks, promising to give them a few minutes before coming to take their orders for dinner. Robin takes a sip of his beer as Regina regards him calmly over the rim of her wine glass.

"But I was nervous," he says finally, a little chuckle escaping his lips.

She grins back at him. "Me too. Although if asked about it in the future I will deny it. It's been a while, like I told you before."

"Same. I don't know proper first-date protocol anymore. What are we supposed to talk about?"

"Our pasts, where we went to school, our hobbies, our jobs. All things that we've spent the last few weeks talking about already," she tells him, laughing again.

"So apparently we're off to a roaring start already. Excellent."

"We're both a little out of our element, definitely."

"Well, that seems as good a toast as any."

She looks confused, and Robin grins. "What do you mean?"

He raises his glass. "A toast. To us. And being out of our element—together."

She raises an eyebrow in response, but lifts her glass as well. "To not knowing what the hell we're doing, but doing it anyway."

"To first dates."

She smiles at him across the table. "To taking a leap of faith."

They clink their glasses and drink.

* * *

Things get considerably easier after their toast breaks the ice. The food is excellent and the conversation even better , and they sit there talking until the sun has sunk low over the water. Only when they realize just how long they've been sitting there, keeping someone else from taking their table, do they finally leave, tipping generously as they do. They hold hands as they walk the boardwalk, not entirely unlike how they had done so with their sons not too long ago, only now it is just the two of them and they have all the time in the world. The feeling of Robin's hand in hers is amazing, almost perfect, something she hasn't felt in a long time. Her heart is busy turning cartwheels in her chest, and as a cool breeze blows over the lake she finds herself walking closer to him, craving his warmth and the scent of cologne and laundry detergent on his skin. His pace slows, as if surprised at what she's done, and when she stops walking altogether, he stops too and looks down at her.

"What is it?"

"I just…I had an amazing time tonight."

"Me too." The smile on his face is so soft, so kind, so _perfect_ with the sight of the water and the setting sun behind him, and Regina knows what she's going to do before she even moves.

His lips on hers are soft, and she feels him stiffen a little in surprise at the contact. She takes her hand from his, putting her arms around his neck instead, and his automatically lock around her waist. He tastes like beer and lobster or maybe it's crab, she can't even remember what the hell he ordered for dinner, not when he's here in her arms and kissing her like this. His lips are gentle but insistent against hers, kissing her with a sweet, calm passion that's enough to make her go weak at the knees.

It's the best kiss she's had in over ten years. Maybe the best kiss she's had since…

He pulls away for air, panting slightly but resting his forehead against hers. "You have…" he whispers, "no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"I'm sure I've been wanting to for just as long."

"What about your rule?" he asks suddenly, his arms still around her waist. "No kisses on the first date?"

"I decided to make an exception. Just this once." Her voice is low, almost tender. "And if I may say so, I'm very glad I did."

"I'm glad you did too." His lips return to hers, more insistent this time, making up for lost time the only way they know how. When they pull away again, they're both breathless, and there's a question on Regina's lips she never thought she'd ask again.

"Do you want to come back to my place? Have some coffee or something?"

She watches his eyes widen and hastens to add, "No pressure or anything. We don't have to…you know. Do anything. We can just do more of this. Kiss and talk. We don't have to do more…unless we want to."

"What about—"

"Henry's staying with Emma for the night. I needed someone to watch him, and they live too far away to only come down for a few hours"

"Emma. Henry's birth mother?"

She's touched at his words. "You remembered?"

"I have a very good memory when it comes to the people I care about."

"That's very good to know." He gives a little nod. "So…do you want to?" she asks again, wondering for the first time if she's overstepped her bounds, if letting her impulses take over was the wrong thing to do. Even if kissing him feels more right than anything she's done in years.

"I'd love to, Regina. You have no idea how much."

She breathes an inward sigh of relief, her arms tightening around his neck. "Oh, I think I have some idea." They kiss a third time, fiercer than ever, and Regina never wants to pull away. "Meet me there?" she whispers against his skin.

"Remind me again why we drove separate cars?" he asks her breathlessly.

Regina lets out a throaty chuckle, finally stepping back away from him. "Because remember? Neither of us has any idea what the hell we're doing."

He laughs as well, his hands slipping into his pockets as he watches her walk away.

"Twenty minutes. Don't you dare be late."

He smiles, and the look on his face sends a rush of heat throughout her body. "I wouldn't dream of it."


	10. Sharing is Caring

_Author's Note: Hello everyone! Did you miss me? I apologize for the major hiatus this ended up taking. I've said it before, but keeping up with writing while in tech/production week of a play is very difficult, and I always end up falling behind during a show. Added to that, work got busier and my muse took a vacation, but I'm very happy to say that it has returned and I'm hoping to get back to a more regular posting schedule for the future. Thank you for your patience and support of this story, it means so much! Some pretty fun things happen in this chapter (okay, there's a __**lot**__ of kissing) so I hope it was worth the wait. ;)_

_Also, I won't bump up the rating just yet, but know that this chapter is edging into more M-rated territory than the previous ones. I'd probably still classify it as a T, but I thought I should mention it just to be safe!_

* * *

In his haste and excitement, Robin gets to Regina's house first.

He tries not to see this as a bad omen of sorts as he pulls into the driveway of the darkened house and puts the car into park. He sits there a moment, staring up at the house and trying to calm his racing heart. His grip on the steering wheel is slick, and he quickly wipes his nervous hands on his jeans, resisting the urge to check his phone to see if there's anything from Regina. He knows there won't be. She cares too much about safety behind the wheel to ever text and drive.

In the end, he checks his phone anyway after sitting in Regina's driveway for a few minutes, this time looking for texts from Will. There's a picture message received about an hour and a half ago, a selfie really, of Roland and Will in their bathing suits, their hair damp and dripping and standing in front of the neighborhood pool. They're each giving Robin a thumbs-up, and he wonders whether it's meant to be a message about how well their evening is going or sending him good luck for his date. He decides to think of it as both as he types a reply. _Looks like you're enjoying yourselves! _He writes with a smile. He's about to hit send when he thinks for a minute, typing out the next words a little sheepishly. _Might be back a little late._

He sends the message—it takes a while, reception by the lake is _horrible, _at least on his cell provider—and waits for a reply, but none comes. He hopes it means that Will is too busy getting Roland settled into bed to check his phone.

He sits there for a minute longer, his hands drumming out an impatient pattern on his thighs, before he decides that his nervous energy would be better spent if he got out of the car. Besides, he's not exactly sure what Regina's neighbors will say if they look out the window and spot an unfamiliar Jeep sitting in her driveway, a man in the front seat, watching, waiting. The last thing he wants is to be put on some neighborhood watch list. So he gets out of the car, trying hard not to pace, swatting idly at a mosquito as it whines by his ear (God, it's so damn _buggy_ out here on the lakeshore), and he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

He's just starting to get worried when he sees headlights up ahead, squinting until the outline of Regina's Mercedes comes into view. She waves as she pulls into the driveway, reaching up to hit the button to open up the garage door. She rolls down the window as she coasts by him, standing in front of his car with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm so sorry!" she calls out. "I got stuck by a train. I was following you at first but then you made that light on Lakewood and I didn't and it all went downhill from there. If I'd known you were going to beat me, I would have given you the code so you could open up the garage."

"It's all right. I don't mind—it's a nice night. Although I did get a lovely welcome from some of your friendly neighborhood mosquitoes," he says as she shuts off the car and climbs out, gesturing for him to follow her inside the garage.

She winces. "Sorry. They weren't so bad earlier in the week, but they can be killer this time of year. Come on in. I have some anti-itch cream inside. Benadryl too, if you need it. Henry gets really severe reactions to mosquito bites, so I always have some on hand."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," Robin quips.

Regina chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that he would give anything to hear again. "Sorry," she says, biting her lip in a way that makes Robin's heart start racing once again. For one insane moment, he wishes that he was the one biting her lip like that. "Sometimes it takes a while to snap out of parent mode, you know?"

"Believe me, I know. And just for the record, I thought it was kind of sweet. But…" he takes a step forward, his hands coming to rest naturally on her waist. "I was sort of hoping we could discuss…other things…than mosquitoes, that's all."

"Not the kind of pillow talk you were hoping for?" she asks with a grin, her dark eyes sparkling. Her words—and that damn look in her eyes—make Robin's breathing quicken in a way that he hopes Regina doesn't notice—or maybe part of him is hoping that she does.

"You tell me," he whispers before leaning in to kiss her again. The little sigh of surprise that she lets out against his mouth makes him want her more than ever, and he has to remind himself to slow down. He can't let things get out of hand too quickly. They're both woefully out of practice on the dating front, they've both admitted it, and part of him is afraid of scaring her away by taking things too fast. He's worried for himself as well, if he's being completely honest. If his experiences in dating since losing Marian are out of practice, his experiences with intimacy and sex since the loss of his wife have been almost nonexistent. As much as his brain (and other parts of him, he's not too embarrassed to admit) is screaming at him to take things as far as Regina will let him, he wants this to be special, to ease them both into it. When they do take that next step, he wants it to be the right choice for both of them.

Plus, she's already broken her no kiss rule for him. He's pretty sure that sex on the first date is more than out of the question.

Still, he can't help but lose himself in her kiss once again, letting his mind run away with him at the sensation of her mouth under his. His hands thread through her hair, letting it slip through his fingers like silk as he brings her closer. Their kisses on the boardwalk by the restaurant were soft and sweet, more hesitant and gentle as they got to know the feel of each other, but now those walls of insecurities seem to have tumbled down. Now there is more passion, more desperation, more need in each stroke of Regina's lips against his. Her little gasp disappears into Robin's mouth as his hands coast up and down her back, coming down to cup her backside lightly. He can feel her breasts pressing up against him through the fabric of their clothes, and the sensation only drives him on further, kissing her like he never imagined he would be able to kiss a woman again.

She is amazing, Regina Mills, and she hardly even knows it. She's the second chance he never knew that the universe had in store for him, a chance for both of them to heal and move on and find love even after past failures. She is beautiful, stunning, even, but also charming, funny, caring, and possesses one of the biggest, most generous hearts he has ever met. He doesn't know what in the world he has done to make the universe put Regina Mills into his life, but he's never been more grateful to it than right now.

God, he might just be falling in love with this woman.

They break apart with a gasp only when the need for air overpowers the need to keep kissing, and Robin smiles softly as they both sway on their feet just slightly. Regina, it seems, is experiencing the same sort of giddiness that he is, and it takes her a moment to catch her breath before she speaks again.

"Wow."

"You're telling me."

"You know, something tells me that I could do that forever and never get tired of it."

"That's good to hear," Robin breathes, grinning down at her. "Because you're quite a good kisser."

"Only 'quite good'? Well, then it's official. I must have lost my touch if there's not at least one _spectacular_ thrown in there. Might as well throw in the towel right here."

"Well, the night is young," he says immediately, and she chuckles again.

"You're making me break all my rules tonight," she muses, resting her forehead against his. "I think that making out in my garage throws all of my plans to be good out the window."

"So does this mean that making out inside the house is off the table entirely? Because if it is, then maybe we should just stay out here."

"I never said it was off the table."

"Then maybe we should go inside."

She giggles—she actually giggles, like a teenager, and he can't help but find it adorable and endearing—and gives him one last little peck before she turns away to open the door. The house is dark and quiet, and he hurries in behind her as she busies herself flipping on lights. If he listens carefully he can hear the waves hitting the shore of the lake down below, and for some reason he likes the idea of Regina falling asleep every night to such a soothing sound.

The house looks a little more lived-in than the last time he saw it, more personal and less like she's trying to impress. The more relaxed atmosphere makes the lake house look more like a home than ever, and Robin smiles. There's a woven University of Michigan blanket haphazardly thrown over the back of the couch, and a copy of one of the _Outlander_ books on the coffee table (he recognizes it from Belle's recent obsession with the same series, so intense that Will had even bribed Robin to sit through a few episodes of the show with him so that he would have something to talk to her about. The acting and the scenery had been enjoyable, but try as he might, Robin can't quite wrap his head around the reason for everyone's obsession with the redheaded male lead). A smaller book, slightly more worn—he guesses it's Henry's, from the cartoonish illustration on the front cover—is laid face-down on an armchair, and a pair of video game controllers sit abandoned on the floor in front of the huge flat-screen TV, as if waiting eagerly for their owner to return to the world of the game. Robin suddenly smiles, envisioning Henry playing video games while Regina readied herself for their date earlier this evening.

"I'm just going to text Henry really quick," Regina says from behind him as if reading his mind. "I promised I'd check in on him. Although I'm sure he's having a blast with Emma and Killian and the checks are more for my benefit than his."

Robin shoots her a grin. "I'm sure that's a strong possibility."

She gives him a wry smile in return. "Oh, don't look so smug, Locksley. Just wait til Roland's a teenager."

"Oh God, don't even mention it. The days are passing far too quickly as it is. I can't believe he's going to be six at the end of the summer. He read to_ me_ before bed last night, not the other way around. And he's determined to master shoe-tying by the end of the summer. It's amazing, but…it kind of hurts to know that he doesn't need me as much anymore."

"They always need us," Regina says knowingly. "Even if it doesn't seem like it."

Robin nods in agreement, giving her a little smile. "Go on, text your boy. You know where to find me when you're done."

Her eyes glint playfully, and the sight nearly takes his breath away. "It'll just take a second, I promise. Don't go anywhere." She turns away, already reaching into her purse to pull out her phone. Robin watches her go, slipping his hands into his pockets with a smile, not wanting to sit down until she joins him again. His heart is still pounding against his chest, so loud that he wouldn't be surprised if Regina can hear it in the next room. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second, trying to relax.

"Okay, all set," her voice makes him open his eyes again, turning to face her with a smile. "We'll see if he texts back."

"Even if he doesn't, I'm sure he's fine and having a great time."

"Yeah."

They look at each other for a moment, and Robin isn't sure who makes the first move. He doesn't care. In a moment, she's back in his arms and his lips are back on hers where he feels they belong. A soft moan escapes her lips Robin traces the outline of that tiny scar there just above her mouth. He wonders how she got it, if it has a story like the scar on his leg that he got during a disastrous performance of a school play. He wants to know the story behind her scar, wants to know every story and everything that has made Regina Mills into the extraordinary woman that she is.

Robin gasps as Regina's lips leave his, tracing a path along his jawline and his neck where his button-down shirt has left it exposed. He's surprised at her actions, and perhaps she is too, because he can feel her practically trembling in his arms. "God, Regina…" he breathes, bringing her close to capture her mouth again, sliding his tongue inside deftly. She tastes glorious, and he feels like he could never have enough. He lifts her up into his arms, preparing to send both of them falling back onto the couch…

There is a yowl and a hiss, and Robin jumps up with a shout, nearly dropping Regina. He turns just in time to see a flash of black disappear around a corner, and Regina swears under her breath.

"What the hell was that?" Robin asks breathlessly.

She just shakes her head, still muttering. "Maleficent! I knew she was being too quiet. I can't take my eyes off that cat for a second. You're okay, right? She didn't get you?"

He takes a mental inventory, looking down at his arms and legs, checking for scratches or snags in the fabric. "Other than a severe blow to my pride, I think I'm okay. No scratches here."

She sighs harshly and shakes her head. "That damn cat, I swear to God…"

"Really, Regina, no harm done. She seems…sweet," Robin manages to say.

"There's a purple nail polish stain on my bathroom tile that says otherwise. " She's sitting on the couch now, brushing a lock of disheveled hair behind her ear with the flustered air of a teenager who just got caught by their parents. After a careful glance around the room to make sure the cat is really gone, Robin sits too. "For whatever reason, she adores Henry and barely tolerates me."

"Wait, she ruined your nail polish too? Does that mean that Miss Maleficent was trying to sabotage our date? Because if so I may have to amend my previous statement."

"I knew you'd pick the right side. It seems I've trained you well. And for the record, I wouldn't put it past her."

He chuckles, but it's forced and they both know it. "It seems that I have spectacularly killed the mood by sitting on your cat," he says helplessly, and Regina laughs for real. It gives him just the tiniest bit of hope-maybe he can save this moment yet.

"Well, since the mood has apparently temporarily flatlined…" She stands up, smoothing her messy hair. Robin immediately misses the warmth of her body against his. "Can I get you anything to drink? I did promise you coffee, but would you like something else? Tea, maybe? Or I have juice, or pop…" Robin chuckles, and Regina gives him a confused little smirk. "What?"

"No matter how long I live here I will never understand why people insist on calling it that. It sounds ridiculous."

Regina laughs as well. "Welcome to the Midwest. Fine. _Soda, _then?"

"What were you going to have?"

"Coffee, but if you'd rather have something else, really, it's no trouble. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

She is already standing, holding a finger to her lips and giving him that look again. As he watches, disappears into the kitchen again, and Robin hears rummaging around and what sounds like glass scraping gently against the countertop. He sits on the couch and smooths his hair—it's as messy as hers now, and he relishes that fact—as he waits for her to come back. It doesn't take long, and she re-enters his line of vision and holds a bottle of dark red wine up for him to see. "I was saving it for a special occasion…seems as good a time as any. If you're interested, that is."

"Oh, I'm very interested."

She grins playfully at him. "Just let me get my corkscrew."

Damn, this woman is going to be the death of him.

* * *

The wine is delicious, but it doesn't take long for them to abandon it. Lips that are becoming more and more practiced with each kiss find each other again when the glasses are only half-empty, and soon Robin is hovering over Regina as she lays stretched out on the sofa, her hands traversing the length of his spine. He sets out to memorize every curve of her jaw and neck, lips and tongue plotting a route to find the places that make her gasp the most—he's finding that he loves that little sound more every time he hears it. And then he's gently sinking his teeth into the hollow between her shoulder and throat, and she's slowly loosening the first few buttons on his now very un-tucked shirt. His hands are everywhere at once and so are hers, and things are happening both too quickly and not quickly enough. Regina's breath is coming in gasps and her heart threatens to flutter right out of her chest as she hooks a leg around Robin to bring him closer just as he places an open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone, one that makes her cry out. She feels like she is floating, hasn't felt like this since…

No. She's not going to think about Daniel, not right now, not here. Not when Robin is hovering above her with his lips swollen and his shirt half-open and, oh god, did she accidentally leave a _hickey_ on his neck? Thank God he and Emma don't know each other yet. Regina knows that she'd never hear the end of it if the blonde found out. As it is, she's half-tempted to keep Henry away from him until it fades…or see if she can bribe Robin to wear high-collared shirts in June.

His kisses begin to venture lower, just above the fabric of her dress as one hand gently palms her breast. A broken cry escapes her mouth at the contact, and he shushes her softly, soothing her with kisses as he makes his way back up to her mouth. She opens her eyes to find him looking down at her, his hair a mess (hers is probably worse), his lips swollen and slightly smeared with her lipstick, his eyes dark with desire. They lock eyes, panting as they try to catch their breath again, both of them feeling the simultaneous need to stop and keep going all at the same time. There is a question in his eyes, one that Regina recognizes without him needing to say the words, and she gives a tiny nod.

"We should…"

"Yeah. We should."

"I want to, Regina, desperately. But I think we both need to ease into this. I don't want to take that step unless we're both sure."

"I feel the same way."

"Besides, I'm not sure if Will is prepared to spend the night with Roland," Robin adds, blushing. "As unsexy as it sounds, I'm afraid I might need to give my babysitter a heads-up on a night when we plan to take things further."

"Actually, I think wanting to be prepared on all fronts is _totally_ sexy."

"Although Will would be the first one to tell you that I need to get laid…"

Regina snorts softly, playing with a lock of Robin's messy hair. "I think one could make an argument that we both need to."

"But I want it to be right for both of us."

"I agree completely. We don't have to take this any further tonight if we're not ready. We can just sit and talk…" As she speaks, Robin is already sitting up on his heels, positioning himself so that he's sitting in the corner of the couch. Immediately she settles herself into Robin's side, curling up against him as his arms come around her naturally. He kisses her temple, closing his eyes for just a moment.

"Thank you for understanding. Thank you for…well, for being you, Regina."

"You're welcome," she breathes, nuzzling into his neck for just a moment. She kisses him once again on the lips, soft and sweet, conveying what she doesn't exactly trust her words to say. They stay like that for a while before Regina breaks away, leaning her head against his shoulder. An easy silence passes, one in which Regina marvels over how at home she feels in Robin's arms already.

"So… what should we talk about?" she asks after a while, not because the silence is growing uncomfortable, but because she misses the sound of his voice. She'd never really gotten the appeal of British accents before—sure, they were interesting to the ear, but she'd never swooned over one before like she'd known others to—but she could certainly get used to his.

"You tell me. It was your suggestion."

"Let me think…oh. I've been meaning to ask for a while actually. How is it that you and Will ended up here in the first place? I mean, you I understand—you said Marian was from here, right?"

"She was, born and raised. A hometown girl in every sense of the word. Her parents were shocked that she wanted to do a semester abroad—it was a bit out of character for her, to be honest—but they supported her completely. I think the six months that she was gone was pretty hard on them—and I'm sure it didn't help when she met a dashing scoundrel like me."

She gives a snort of laughter, swatting his arm. "Please."

"Fine, believe what you want. Do you know what Will and I were doing when we met her? We were both working for a company that ran punting tours on the river. Our job was to lure unspecting tourists onto our _insanely_ overpriced tours, and we were damn good at it, if I may say so myself. Although we might have been a bit too persistent. One of Marian's housemates threatened to punch me in the face if I accosted him while he was carrying his grocery shopping again."

Regina laughs. "Well, may I just say, I'm glad he didn't. It would be a shame to mess up that face of yours."

"My thoughts exactly! He didn't seem to agree."

"My point is, if she loved this place so much, settling down here after you got married must have been the obvious choice. So how about Will? Where does he fit into all this? Did he come over to be your best man for the wedding and then just never leave?"

"Well, you're half right. He did come over for the wedding, obviously, but he didn't stay."

"So then why…"

"He came back for me and Roland."

Regina nods, waiting for Robin to continue.

"Will was amazing after we lost Marian," Robin says simply. "After she died I had barely gotten off the phone with him, and he was already buying a plane ticket. He dropped everything to come out here and be there for me, to help with Roland and help me get through everything. Now, to be fair, there wasn't much of anything for him to drop—he'd been bumming around for a while, doing odd jobs—bit of bartending, things like that—trying to figure out what his next step was in life. But it didn't matter. He knew I needed him, even if I never actually told him, and he was there. He helped out with Roland, he took care of things like flowers and caterers for the funeral, he did the grocery shopping, he cleaned the house and pitched in at the store and made sure that I dragged my ass out of bed and took a shower on the days when it felt like I couldn't even manage to do that."

Regina remembers those days well, days from her own past that still come back to haunt her at the worst possible times, days when it seems like even pulling back the covers is the hardest thing she's ever had to do. Days when she had to remind herself to even breathe. She nods sympathetically.

"It was always open-ended, how long he'd end up staying with us. I think we both knew that he wasn't going anywhere until we both felt totally comfortable with him leaving. And I guess he just fell in love with the town so much that he got his own place one day and decided to never leave." He lets out a little snort of laughter. "It helps that I saw how smoothly the store was running with his help and offered him the assistant manager job on the spot. You'd be surprised how much of a perk job security can be."

"He didn't stay because of a job," Regina protests lightly, even though she knows that Robin already knows this. "He stayed for you and Roland."

"And I'm grateful for that every day," Robin replies, his voice soft as he twirls a lock of Regina's dark hair around his index finger. _When was the last time someone played with my hair like this?_ She thinks suddenly. _And how could I have forgotten how nice it feels?_

"I wouldn't have been able to do this without his help, especially at first. He's a real lifesaver. Especially since…" He trails off, biting his lip, and Regina frowns.

"Since what?" she asks, stroking his chest lightly.

He sighs, then shrugs. "My parents weren't exactly Marian's biggest fans, that's all. Or maybe that's not exactly true. They liked her well enough, I guess. They warmed up to her once they realized that I was in that relationship for the long haul. But they definitely didn't take too kindly to their only son moving halfway across the world, and after she died, I think they expected me to take Roland and move back home. But I couldn't just uproot him, even if he was so young it probably wouldn't have affected him that much. I couldn't leave the life that the three of us had built up here behind just because my parents wanted me to. I wanted Roland to stay connected to that part of his mother's past, I wanted him to grow up in the house that we'd gotten together. Things like that. My parents still don't really understand how I could have chosen to stay. Not that they're ever cruel or anything—of course not. They were horrified for me when Marian died, and as supportive as they could have been, and they adore Roland more than life itself."

"Do you see them often?"

"I take Roland there twice a year, usually spring break and Christmas. Summer's too busy at the store for me to take off on vacation for that long. I'm sure they wish I'd come more often."

She nods. "Parents…I'm sure they think they mean well, but they don't always know what's best for their children. Maybe it's our job as parents to make sure that we don't make the same mistakes that they did raising ours."

"You sound as if you speak from experience."

She pauses, biting her lip as if to keep the words safely trapped behind them. "That's because I do," she says after a pregnant pause, adding, "I haven't seen or spoken to my mother since I was nineteen years old."

"Are you serious?" Robin blurts out before he can even stop himself, hating himself for it the moment the question slips from his lips. What the hell kind of insensitive question is that? Why would she say something like that if she wasn't serious?

He immediately feels his face begin to redden, and he looks away, mortified. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"It's all right," she says, but her voice has a bit more distance to it than it had a few minutes ago. Her gaze slides from his face, and she stares at their hands entwined together on his lap.

"I don't want to pry, but…"

For a moment, she thinks about telling him. It's been so long since she's spoken to anyone about what happened—all of it, Daniel and her mother and every last excruciating, heartwrenching detail—but something stops her. Fear of reopening old wounds, maybe, or perhaps it's just fear of scaring Robin away. It's strange, really, how Robin can be so open and willing to trust her with the ghosts of his past, while all Regina can do is bury them deeper within her where they can never be found.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, shaking her head. "It's a long story, one that's still painful for me to talk about." An image of Daniel's face, the look in his eyes the last time she ever saw him, after her mother had ordered him out of her house, flashes across her vision. She closes her eyes. "Maybe another time."

_Please don't leave just because of this,_ a part of her whispers, that part of her that is still the little girl who always felt abandoned and not good enough, the part of her she's tried to move past for years. _Please stay._

"I understand."

She opens her eyes and blinks once at him in surprise. "You do?"

"Some wounds take longer to heal than others. I think I might understand that better than anybody."

"You probably do," she says with a sigh, leaning into him like a child. Robin wraps his arms around her once again without hesitation, rubbing her back and stroking her hair. She snuggles into him without a second thought, breathing in the scent of his skin, so comforting to her already. Should she be worried about how attached she's getting to him already? Should it scare her, how much she's come to care for this man in such a short amount of time?

"Did I totally ruin the evening?" Regina asks, her voice muffled. She can't meet his eyes, not until she's sure that she hasn't just permanently screwed everything up. _This is why I don't date. This is why I don't let anyone in…_ "I swear, I'm sorry for being such a Debbie Downer."

"Regina Mills," he says firmly, making her look up at him. "I promise that you have not ruined anything. Not one thing, do you hear me? I promise. If something like that was enough to drive me away…"

She gives a chuckle that is just a bit too tearful for her liking, feeling her nerves begin to melt away as she strokes the back of her hand down his cheek. "I wish I knew what you see in me."

"You're amazing, Regina."

His response is so simple and heartfelt it almost makes fresh tears spring to her eyes. "You are. You're an amazing mother, a beautiful soul inside and out…you're kind to my son and laugh at my awful jokes and seem to understand me in a way that no one has been able to in years. I never thought that I would be able to move on after Marian, but with you, I feel like I've been given a second chance. _That's_ what I see in you, Regina Mills. And hopefully it's the same thing that you see in me."

She really has no response for that. So she kisses him again.

Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind.

* * *

He stays for about half an hour longer, just kissing and chatting and sipping more of the wine. Things get a little heated once again, but they both make good on their promise to take things slow, although the goodbye kiss at the door nearly makes both of them have second thoughts about that. Robin goes slow on the drive home, replaying not only their conversation but the feeling of Regina in his arms. It's after midnight when he finally gets home, over an hour past when he said he'd be home, but he can't even bring himself to feel sorry for making Will stay longer than planned.

"Will?" he calls out quietly as he comes into the kitchen through the garage door, not wanting to wake his sleeping son. The kitchen is dark when he walks in, but a faint blue glow from the living room tells him that the TV has been left on. A soft snore echoes from the room, and Robin quickly muffles a snort of laughter. He finds Will and Roland asleep in a pile on the couch, oblivious to the world around them, the TV stuck on the DVD menu for _The Incredibles._ He wonders what time the two of them fell asleep, how far into the movie they'd gotten, and hopes that Will at least had Roland brush his teeth before he nodded off. He spends a few minutes watching them before carefully walking over and gathering his son up in his arms, trying not to wake either of them. Roland stirs in his arms, but remains asleep as Robin carefully carries him to bed and tucks him in, settling him down with his stuffed bear beside him. He smooths the covers down over Roland's shoulders, smiling softly at the sight of his boy fast asleep, his face calm, his breathing soft and even. "Sweet dreams, my little man," he whispers, kissing Roland's forehead and getting up off the bed, plugging in the nightlight the way Roland likes it and carefully closing the door behind him.

As for Will, Robin takes one look at him sleeping on the couch like a child and reaches for the blanket folded over the arm of the sofa, unfolding it and draping it over Will before going off to get ready for bed himself.

As he's brushing his teeth, he's surprised to get a text from Regina.

_Thank you for an amazing night,_ it reads simply. _See you soon._

And then, a moment later…

_Good night, Robin. 3 _


End file.
